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TPEHelledle^ /Oba^ine 


From the Margin of a Notebook . . . Mary Hefferan, '96 . . 211 

Before the Shaw Monument .... Grace Louise Cook, '99 . . 217 

Music . . . Jeannette A. Marks . . 223 

The Laying of the Plympton Ghost . . . Mary Jenks Page, '88 . . 223 

The Fortunes of Betty Rachel Schojield Hoye, '98 . 230 

A Ballade of Sea Memories II. C. 234 

Is Philanthropy Worth While ? . . . . Margaret Merrill, '99 . . 235 

Jottings 238 

Editorials 239 

Free Press 241 

Exchanges 242 

Book Reviews 246 

Books Beceived 247 

College Notes 247 

Society Notes . . . 252 

Alumnae Notes 253 

Marriages 263 

Births 264 

Deaths 264 

idol tDu. — jfebruars, 1898- -no. 5. 

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The Weleesley Magazine. 

Vol. VI. WELLESLEY, FEBRUARY 19, 1898. No. 5. 




EVA G. POTTER, '98. 


The Wellesley Magazine is published monthly, from October to June, by a board of editors 
chosen from the Student Body. 

All literary contributions may be sent to Miss Betty Scott, Wellesley College, Wellesley, Mass. 

All items of college interest, and communications to be inserted in the department of Free Press, 
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Advertising business is conducted by Miss Mary L. Barker, Wellesley College, Wellesley, Mass. 

Subscriptions to the Magazine and other business communications should in all cases be sent to 
Miss Eva G. Potter, Wellesley College, Wellesley, Mass. 

Terms, $1.75 per year; single copies, 25 cents. Payment should be made by money order. 


In a room on an upper corridor of the Zoological Building a man stirred 
a pot. The room was the laboratory of a Fellow of the University of Chicago ; 
the innocent-looking pot contained a limpid bouillon which swarmed with 
millions of the morphological brother germ of typhoid fever. The man, who 
wore a white apron, took some test tubes from their wire cage, removed the 
cotton plugs one at a time, poured quickly into each tube a little of the 
liquid, and replaced the plugs and the tubes. Then he took one up again 
and added a few drops from a glass-stoppered bottle ; one, two, three drops 
from a second bottle, and held the tube up to the light. Slowly a beautiful 
pink zone appeared where the two liquids met, which spread and deepened 
until the whole was a well-marked rose color. Gradually, too, an expression 
of great relief spread over the anxious face watching it. Yet the tube was 
replaced in its wire cage with a sigh. 

"Well, Dr. Faustus?" 


"It is my new indol test," he said ; " an improvement on the Theobald- 
Smith-Dunham broth. I have proved that it gives immensely better results 

than any in use, but it has the one disadvantage of taking forty-eight hours 
instead of twenty-four for preparation. Until I can overcome that difficulty 
it is of no use to publish." 

He bent over some pages of neatly written notes among his tubes and 
sterilizers. My notebook and I wandered across the hall. 

" We were sorry to miss your demonstration in the Club the other day," 
we suggested to the young athlete whose maroon sweater bore the big letter C. 

"If you have time I should be glad to show you just the idea of it here 
now, — and if you are interested?" 

We admitted that we were interested. He placed a tiny drop of distilled 
water in the center of a cover slip. Touching lightly with a sterilized platinum 
needle the white growth of the terrible typhoid germ so easily confined in the 
cotton-plugged tube, he transferred it to the water and inverted the slip on a 
hollow glass slide. Under the microscope the little organisms were plainly 
visible, swimming about freely in the field. Then he prepared another slip, 
but instead of the pure distilled water he took from a common envelope a 
number of slips of paper, which he shuffled over in his hand like cards. Each 
had upon it a label and the dried brown stain of a drop of blood from a patient 
who perhaps had typhoid fever. He put the drop of water upon a stain, and 
then transferred a little to the cover slip and inoculated the germs as before. 
At first they swam about, too, as before, under the microscope ; but soon the 
motion grew slower, and finally ceased, the organisms sticking together and 
forming what is called an agglutination. Now only the blood serum of a 
typhoid fever patient will produce such an effect, and it seems to be an 
infallible diagnosis of the disease, which is often so hard to recognize in its 
early stages. 

"I was surprised," said he of the maroon sweater, "to find that even 
Cook County Hospital used the macroscopic test, founded on the same 
principle, but a much grosser and slower method, taking a day at least. 
They have changed since they have seen how quick and simple this is, under 
the microscope." 

These two instances may serve to illustrate the kind of work which is 
carried on in a department of the Hull Biological Laboratories in Chicago. 


The distinction of the great University rests in no small measure upon 
its encouragement of research, the development of the true scientific spirit. 
The aim of the organization of the biological school was to allow to the fullest 
extent the benefits attending the separate cultivation of the different sub- 
divisions, each with its distinct aims, problems, and methods, and yet to 
emphasize the essential unity of the whole. The domain of biology, it is 
said, embraces all living things, vegetable and animal. All that relates to 
the vegetable kingdom is included under botany. Unfortunately the term 
zoology is not so comprehensive, and although there is a growing tendency 
to include under the term more and more of animal biology, as yet the dis- 
tinction is made of zoology, comparative anatomy, or the study of organized 
form and structure, and physiology, which concerns itself with the properties 
and actions of living beings. The study of the nervous system has become 
so important in its relations to psychology, that neurology has received special 
recognition as a separate department. The same is true of palaeontology, 
which forms a connecting link between biology and geology. 

The architecture of the great stone structure of the laboratories has, in 
a measure, carried out this idea of harmonized division of labor. Around 
the three sides of a square, which forms the biological gardens of Hull Court, 
the buildings of Botany, Zoology, Anatomy, and Physiology, one on each 
corner, are connected by long, low, marble-walled galleries. Each depart- 
ment, with its subordinate subjects, its laboratories and lecture rooms, its 
own head professors, assistants, and enthusiastic student members, is a unit 
in itself, yet so closely allied to the others as to be dependent upon them 
for highest development. The proposed affiliation of Rush Medical College, 
of which Dr. Harper is already president, will perfect an organization whose 
only rival in this country is the older one of Johns Hopkins University. 

Chicago has, above all, allowed no obstacles to prevent the accmirement 
of the best heads for her school of science. Here the student comes into 
contact with men who are recognized authorities in their subjects, original 
investigators, whose names one may find at the end of monographs in sci- 
entific publications of all countries. Japan has furnished a professor of 
Cytology; Germany, of Physiology; England, of other subjects. The 
personnel is infinite in variety, but perhaps the head of the department of 
Physiology may be described as a type of university instructor in Chicago. 


In the lecture room Dr. Jacques L's classes are composed largely of -in- 
dents who are well advanced in the subject, Fellows of the University, who 
are doing research work in this or in kindred departments. The student 
must be capable of great concentration, of rapid and vivid thought, of dis 
crimination in taking brief but adequate notes. Such knowledge is neces- 
sary of the subject and of all that it presupposes, i. e., physics, chemistry, 
general biology, anatomy, histology, as to permit wide range of ideas as the 
professor touches here and there with lightning-like rapidity. He speaks 
without notes ; ordinarily he strides back and forth across the front of the 
room, catching with his eye as he passes them sentences from this or that 
German volume spread out on the desk before him, which plunges the men- 
tal process into new channels. Theory after theory is hauled forward into 
the light, if important, is weighed and given its true value with quick analy- 
sis or blackboard demonstration ; if worthless, it is dismissed with a terse 
epithet, which forever after labels it in the mind of the hearer. Yet he 
emphasizes the fact that even the errors of thinking scientists enlarge our 

The slightest expression of bewilderment on a face before the lecturer 
is quick to call forth the eager question, "Vat haf you not understood?" 
But he is very impatient of any interruption which is irrelevant to the ques- 
tion in hand, and refers the student rather emphatically to the end of the 
hour, while he gropes for an instant for the broken threads of his thought. 
However, no peroration announces the conclusion of the lecture. The pro- 
fessor talks until one of his promenades brings him before the door, when 
he suddenly disappears, leaving the class to gaze blankly from notebooks to 
the empty space, until some one awakes from the trance and starts down the 
corridor in hot pursuit, with a question. The rest linger to discuss the 
many points raised. These discussions often lead to the spontaneous 
organization of well attended student quiz classes, indicative of the interest 

As a quiz master himself, Dr. L. is called one of the hardest in the 
University, but of the hard kind that is popular, for his aim is so distinctly 
that of bringing the most important facts of the subject briefly and clearly 
before the mind of the class. His questions are short and incisive ; the 
answers are expected to correspond in definite clearness and brevity. Woe 


to the unfortunate man who from inborn talent or from intention attempts 
circumlocution. He is immediately drawn, sawed, and quartered, all with 
such touches of humor that the onlookers are divided between laughter and 

A man who expected his Ph.D. at the next Convocation was reduced 
to the necessity of performing on the board with chalk the difficult problem 
of multiplying a number in the hundreds by two. 

"But this is physiology, not mental arithmetic," he expostulated 
desperately from under his humiliation. 

"Ah, but physiology is a broad subject, — and perhaps also mental 
arithmetic ; I do not say," came with the expressive shrug of shoulders 
which did say much. 

In the laboratory Dr. L. leaves much detail of explanation to his 
assistants, yet he knows always upon what each individual student is work- 
ing, and reveals with a few pointed questions any difficulties in the case. 
He offers very little direct advice. "Let her struggle," he said, as he stood 
with his hands in his pockets, watching a perplexed student, "it will help 
her on in life." Or, with a glance at an intricate tangle of electrical appara- 
tus upon which neither notes nor text seemed to the despairing operator to 
throw any light, " Haf you not yet learned when it is a problem of space 
to overcome?" 

One must take constant and accurate notes, with full descriptions, and 
any suggestions as to possible sources of error, throughout each experiment. 
A ready knack at things, perseverance, and above all originality, is sure to 
meet with appreciation and hearty commendation. An excited assistant 
reported a clever bit of investigation. "That is good," said Dr. L., 
approaching the elated student with a pleased smile. "Perhaps you haf 
done something new. I do not say so; you must find out." The embryo 
Darwin remembered the follow r ing well-emphasized sentence in his notebook, 
"If in ninety-nine cases out of one hundred a certain result follows an 
experiment, and the one hundredth case varies, we cannot accept that result 
as a law." Then if the result is worth anything, and no one of any nation- 
ality has discovered it before, one may have done something new. 

This search for new light upon things, the eagerness to add even one 
brief item to the book of Knowledge is the moving spirit of these labora- 


tories. But the item must have some vital significance ; it must not be 
remote, vague, abstract. It need not always be new. The immense amount 
of time spent in the scientific world upon verification, condensation, elabora- 
tion, can hardly be realized. Worlds are not built in a day, nor often by 
accident. Yet the onward sweep of progression is overwhelming. To keep 
in touch with it requires almost breathless endeavor, and the various 
departmental clubs, which devote their meetings to the review of journals 
and publications, are absolutely necessary for this purpose. A month, 
a week, not even a few days can pass without some new method, or discov- 
ery, to be comprehended, fitted into its place and absorbed into the routine 

"Will finally any new thing be left unknown?" I demanded of my 
notebook one day, after two lectures, one on "Contractile Cytoplasm and 
Animal Phosphorescence," and another on Sanarelli's new " Bacilles Ichte- 
roides." The rain beat down upon the empty court outside ; the grinning 
stone beasts seemed to wriggle balefully higher on the arch of Hull Memorial 
Gate. After all perhaps Nature is laughing in her sleeve at us. It grew 
too cloudy for the microscope, and I turned to jot down the thermal death 
point of the typhoid fever germ, fifty-seven degrees Centigrade. On the 
margin of the notebook this stared back at me : — 

From out the rain 

The red roofs strike against the sky, 

And walls of gray 

And mists make phantom play, 

From out the rain. 

And I 

Look out on these, 

The dull soft sky and dripping trees, 

The wet green land, 

And in my hand 

The elements of death, and I 

Make phantom play. 

Mary Hefferan, '96. 



"No, I can't see him. I can't see him, nor the horse either. Ain't it 
a pity? Now ain't it a pity?" 

The old negro stood with his back to the Shaw Memorial and pointed 
his cane toward a tree. At his plaintive words the group of people before 
the statue glanced up in momentary curiosity. Miss Howe stepped nearer 
to the bent figure. 

" Turn around," she said, in his ear, " and come a little nearer. There's 
Colonel Shaw." 

"It ain't any good. I thought mebbe I could make out the horse 
against the sky, — but it all looks dark. It's a pity, after coming so far. 
But mebbe she can see," and he turned toward a little black woman wrapped 
in a heavy crape veil. " He's there ahead. Can you see him, Mis' Simp- 
kins? This lady with me, she's Mis' Simpkins. She lives nex' door." 

Miss Howe, gravely acknowledging the introduction, noted the frail 
form, and the signs, in the twitching face, of a frail mind. Mrs. Simpkins 
smiled feebly and shook her head. 

" Don' see much," she said. 

" Perhaps, if you come nearer," suggested Miss Howe 

' ' Ain't we close to it ? " 

The old man tipped his face up eagerly toward the friendly voice, and 
the young woman looked down upon his stubby grey beard and wrinkled 
face, and wavering, sightless eyes. For answer she led him forward, while 
Mrs. Simpkins limped after them. The group of onlookers parted to let 
them pass. 

" How far have you come?" asked Miss Howe. 

"All the way from Cambridge, lady. You see," he continued, cheer- 
fully, "Mis' Simpkins, she's lame, and pretty near blind, and as for me — 
I'm blind, and a little mite lame with rheumatics. And our young folks, 
they're working, so we thought we'd hitch hosses, and come in to see the 
colonel's statue. It's twenty year since I was in Boston, and I don't think 
nothing else would bring me on them electrics. Mis' Simpkins here, she's 
young and don't mind a journey." 

" Now, Mr. Wells ! " tittered the little widow. 


"She ain't but seventy, and I'm over eighty," continued Mr. Wells; 
and then, suddenly, " Is that him?" he asked, as his cane struck the granite. 

"No, that is the lowest part of the pedestal. I think if you climb 
three steps you may be able to reach the statue. The first is the highest. 
That's it ! Now a little farther on — another. And now one more, not quite 
so high. There you are ! " 

The little old man stood panting and timorous, leaning on his cane. 
He dared not move on the strange height. 

" Now if you reach straight before you you will touch one of the men 
in front of the horse. That's right ! That's the leg of one of the musicians." 

" Musician, eh? Which one, I wonder? I used to know some of 'em, 
but I don't recollect the names." 

Helen Howe's interest was deepening. 

' ' Were you — were } r ou in the regiment ? " 

" No," regretfully, " I couldn't go. I was blind in one eye then. But 
I — I saw 'em start off! And I saw 'em come back, too ! Who've I got hold 
of now?" 

" That? Let me see — that is another leg. It seems to be the leg of 
the color bearer." 

"Colors? Is the colors there? I saw them colors when they came 
back. Where's Mis' Simpkins? Mis' Simpkins, you come up here, Mis' 
Simpkins ; here's your brother William in the statue, flag an' all ! " 

In a twinkling Helen Howe's mind grasped the situation. She ran to 
the impotent Mrs. Simpkins. 

"My uncle was an officer in the 54th — was Sergeant Carney your 
brother? Here — give me your hand. I'll help you up. There! Was he 
your brother — the man who brought the colors from Fort Wagner?" 

" You see she knows about him," chimed in Mr. Wells. " I bet every- 
body knows about William Carney. Yes, mum, he's her brother. He's 
dead now. She's wearing that mourning for him an' her husband." 

The mourner was breathless and agitated after her climb. She smoothed 
her rumpled crape. 

"My ole man, he was shifless," she said, "but Willie was a soldier. 
They didn't tell me Willie was put in the statue." The tears rolled down 
her smiling face. "Where is he?" And she began to peer helplessly at 
the bronze legs, one by one. 


"Here; this is him. I've got a hold of his leg. I can't reach any 
higher. Eh, that was a great day, Miss, when the 54th came home ! " 

The blind man turned a little toward the young lady standing below, as 
unconscious as he of the listening, watching group behind her. 

" We boys all ran down to the wharf, to see 'em come in, and we fol- 
lowed 'em through State Street and up to the State House here, where the 
Governor talked to 'em a spell. And then we marched around with 'em, to 
see 'em disband on the common. Everybody was cheering an' running, an' 
bands was playing, an' ladies was waving their silk flags, — for all the society 
folks turned out to see the black soldiers come home. You see, Miss, if 
those niggers hadn't a done as they did, there at Fort Wagner, President 
Abraham Lincoln wouldn't 'uv allowed other nigger regiments to go an' fight 
for freedom. That's what they was fighting for, — freedom. An' that's why 
everybody hollered so for joy." 

In his pause for breath, not a sound was heard. Mrs. Simpkins, crouch- 
ing by Willie's ankle, was quietly wiping her eyes. The blind man's shak- 
ing hands, and his tremulous, piercing tones belied the stillness of his face. 

" But it was a day of mourning and lamentation, too," he added, brok- 
enly. " There was many old faces wasn't there. My brother wasn't there. 
And my son, — he was a little felluh, — he was dead. Most of the officers 
that went out, — grand young gentlemen they was, too, — they wasn't there. 
And the young colonel, he wasn't there. The young colonel, do you know 
where he was, Miss? He was down South, lying in the sand by the sea- 
shore, with heaps of his black soldiers, all shot in the front, like him." 

The old man's trembling right hand fell on the lifted hoof of the bronze 
charger, and crept up and down ankle and fetlock. 

"This is his horse, I reckon. Where's the other fore foot?" He 
tucked his cane under his arm, and began tropins' with his left hand. 

"Back a little, — farther yet," prompted Miss Howe, in wondering pity 
for the unguided fingers. "Now a little lower; there you have it. Now 
follow the leg up. You see this foot is planted firmly, and he is just taking 
a step forward with the other. If you follow along toward the saddle girth 
you will strike the stirrup." 

Slowly the old negro traced the curve with his left hand. In her effort 
to help him the girl had braced herself, half-kneeling, on the step below and 


was trying to reach his arm. She had forgotten Mrs. Simpkins, who had 
wriggled her way to the ground, and now stood near, looking and smiling 

The fingers ceased their wandering. 

' ' Is this it ? Is this the stirrup ? " 

" Yes, and his foot is in it. That's the spur, at the heel, but the horse 
doesn't need it " 

" His foot, eh? and this leads up along his ankle and leg?" 

The old man excitedly hitched himself along the narrow ledge, and, 
unsuspecting, brought his right hand down upon a slender projection. 

" His sword ! " whispered the girl. 

"His sword," murmured the other. "The young colonel's sword, is 

He tested the blade between his thumb and finger. 

" Drawn, ain't it? " 

" Yes, he grasps it in his right hand, ready to use it. Follow it up to 
the hilt, — let me help you, — way up. Now can you reach the hand?" 

By dint of much stretching and groping, the shaking hand of the old 
negro rested on the cold bronze above the sword hilt. 

" Here it is ! " he quavered. " This is Colonel Shaw's hand, with the 
sword in it. O Miss, I thought like enough I couldn't see him at all, but 
I've seen his hand and his foot; his sword hand, and his foot in the stirrup." 

" And when you go home you can think how he looks on his horse. 
He is young and strong, as he sits there. You can feel every muscle ready 
for action. His bare sword is in this hand, and in the other he holds the 
reins. They are a little loose, for the horse is as eager to go as his master. 
The colonel wears a military cap', and he is gazing straight ahead, as if he 
saw the fire through which he is going to lead his men. I can't tell you how 
his face looks. The mouth is shut very tight at the corners, as it must have 
been after he said, ' We will take the fort, or die.' You remember, he said 

"Yes, mum ; O yes ! I reckon I remember most everything about that 
fight. And how he told Carney he'd carry the colors on himself, if Carney 
fell. And he'd a done it, too. Carney's in front, ain't he?" 

"Yes," replied Miss Howe, soberly, lifting her eyes from the grizzled 


head before her to the beardless faces of Mr. St. Gaudens's typical negroes. 
" The colors and the musicians lead the way, and the soldiers with muskets 
march behind. You can't see many of the men, you know. It's as if you 
were looking at the colonel and just happened to see a few men in front and 
behind. A wind is blowing from the rear and hurrying them along. It 
blows the horse's tail forward, and the flag." 

While the old man rested on his cane, trying to fix the picture in his 
mind, Miss Howe turned to the little woman in black. 

"You can see better than Mr. "Wells, I hope you could make out the 
men ? " 

Mrs. Simpkins bowed and giggled nervously. 

"The horse, that's all. I couldn't see Willie plain, and I don't know 
if his statue looks like 'im." 

Miss Howe did not know what to say next. 

" Mebbe you can tell me, Miss," — her smile became wistful, — " has he 
got a round face, young lookin'?" 

" Yes." 

' ' And does he wear a soldier's cap ? " 


"And he's got the flag?" 


"Then that's him, — that's Willie, sure enough. Thank ye, Miss. You 
see we're all proud of him, and I know now just how he looks standin' there 
ahead of the horse. I guess the young folks didn't know he was in it." 

"Eh, Mis' Simpkins," broke in Mr. Wells, groping his way back along 
the ledge. "I reckon we'll have a good deal of news for the young folks." 1 

Miss Howe helped him down with difficulty. 

" They didn't know we was going to see so much. I expec' we've seen 
enough for one day. And we're much obliged to you, Miss, for showing us 
the colonel's statue." 

"That was nothing," said the girl, more touched than she cared to show, 
and conscious now of the curious eyes upon her as she walked with the old 
people toward the street. "I am very grateful to you for telling me some- 
thing about the 54th." 

"You're welcome, Miss. You see, you kinder belong to the regiment, 


your uncle being an officer, — an' I'm allays glad to do a lady a favor," bowing 
stiffly. " Good day, Miss. Pleased to have met you." 

" Good-by, Mrs. Simpkins," called Miss Howe, as arm in arm the two 
bent figures started down Beacon hill to the tapping of their canes. 

Helen Howe's face was aflame. There was a lump in her throat; her 
eyes were wet. She turned suddenly away, and ran into a figure with lifted 
hat and outstretched hand. 

"You are to be congratulated," said a familiar, bantering voice. 

"He thinks I'm a fool," thought Helen. " For what?" she asked. 

"Upon your fortunate find. AVhich way are you bound? I may go 
along and explain myself? Thanks. I was wondering, as I watched you 
with your two friends there " 

An impatient gesture from Miss Howe interrupted him. 

"I was wondering," he continued, unmoved, "what your motive was. 
Was it purely philanthropic, or were you gathering literary material?" 

"Motive?" exclaimed the girl, angrily, "I had no motive — not the 
slightest. And I was not behaving like a fool, either. I was doing what 
any honest man or woman in the same place would have done. And instead 
of coming to my assistance, you stood there in cold blood and tried to ana- 
lyze my motives ! If you had had a spark of right feeling you would not 
have thought of my motive." 

A slight pause, and the girl rushed on, — "Why did you think of me, 
anyway ? Why didn't you think of those dusky young faces in St. Gaudens's 
matchless group, and of that white-bearded, blind negro? He would have 
made a soldier. Look at that heroic figure of Robert Shaw in his splendid 
young manhood. Where, nowadays, can we find a man at twenty-three?" 

Her companion was nettled, but he knew how to retaliate. 

"I perceive," he ventured, slowly, "that your interest was a literary 
one — as I thought. Is it for the Transcript?" 

Miss Howe whirled upon him. 

"I hate you !" 

The young man was mute. The next moment the girl laughed. 

" Come," she said, "come home with me. Mamma will be glad to offer 
you some tea. But I do hate you, just the same, — and I shall never write a 
line about the Wells and Simpkins episode." 

This is how she kept her word. Grace Louise Cook, '99. 




The whirr of the wind through the green fir trees, 
The sweep of the blast o'er the brown dry leas, 
Make a sound so low, and plaintive, and sweet 
As the wind and the harp when they chance to meet. 

The wind and the harp sing e'er to heaven ; 
The wind and the trees to the Seas that are Seven. 
The wind, and the harp, and the green fir trees 
Sing one song for the earth and the Seven Seas. 

Heaven, and earth, and the Seven Seas, 
Yes, e'en the stubble on yon brown leas, 
Keep silent awhile till the tremulous song 
Has swept thro' their souls a quivering throng. 

The wind, and the harp, and the green fir trees 
Are singing now to the Seven Seas ; 
But the answering song, as it quivers and sings, 
Tells of waves, and shores, and of many things. 

Jeannette A. Mares. 


Plympton had a ghost. There was no doubt of it ; for had not Jerry 
Hawkins seen the spectre with his own eyes? and, what was more, had he 
not offered to ' ' put up " his full-blooded mastiff against any two of the 
mongrel curs belonging to his companions to prove it? 

In his own circle this was enough, for the village loungers who knew Jerry 
knew that any offer involving his beloved dog meant that he was betting 
on a certainty. So for several days Jerry's statement stood unchallenged, 
and he enjoyed the proud distinction of being the one mortal in Plympton 
who could boast of a personal interview with a genuine spirit. 

But every Paradise has its serpent, and Jerry's came in the form of 
young John Reynolds, familiarly known as " Jack" to distinguish him from 
his father, John, Senior, who was the owner of the largest mill in the little 


As Jack was striding down the street one evening on his way home to 
supper, he saw Jerry with several boon companions ornamenting the iron 
railing in front of the post-office windows. 

" Hello, Jerry ! What's this I hear about your ghost?" he called out as 
he came near. 

" Don't know," said Jerry. 

Jack stopped. "You don't really mean to say that a sensible fellow 
like you takes any stock in such truck. No, no, Jerry, that's too much ! " 
and Reynolds's face assumed a most serious expression, though his eyes 
were twinkling. 

' ' What call have I to b'lieve you're standin' in front of me now ? " drawled 
Jerry, argumeutatively. 

"Because you see me, I suppose," said Jack. 

" I don't see you no plainer now than I see that ghost then. I'll put up 
my mastiff 'gainst any two " 

" I don't want your dog, Jerry," interrupted Reynolds, but I would like 
to get a glimpse of your ghost. Where does it walk?" 

" Walk ! Not much walkin' about that ghost, you'd better b'lieve. It 
hops ! " 

"Hops!" repeated Re} r nolds, incredulously. "Who ever heard of a 
ghost that hopped ! " 

" But this wa'n't no ord'nary spirit," protested Jerry. 

Reynolds laughed. "If any fellow in town is familiar with ord'nary 
spirits it's you, Jerry. But go on, and tell us about it," he added hast- 
ily, as he saw evidences of rising indignation on Jerry's part at this home 
thrust. So for the twentieth time the tale was told. 

Jerry's house, as every one knew, lay beyond the town limits, about a 
mile and a half toward the north, and could be reached in two ways. The 
more traveled road followed along by the side of the little river that came 
hurrying down the valley to turn the wheels of the Plympton mills, while 
the other wound along on the higher land toward the east, past what was 
known as the " Old North Burying Ground." 

Contrary to Jerry's usual custom, he had started home from town one 
windy evening about nine o'clock by the latter road, and when he came 
opposite the deserted enclosure, distinguishable even on a fairly dark night 


by the row of rotting wooden pickets that fenced it in, he saw something- 
white moving among the graves. He stopped and looked, and while he 
stood watching the figure vanished, and before there was time, according to 
Jerry's statement, to say "Jack Robinson," it reappeared in another part 
of the enclosure so far from the first spot that Jerry was ready to swear that 
no human being could have traversed the distance in the time taken by the 
apparition. Then it began "hoppin"' back and forth from one side of the 
burying ground to the other, until Jerry, his teeth chattering with fear, 
took to his heels and made for home as fast as his trembling legs would 
carry him. 

"An' I ain't ashamed to own I was scairt, neither," concluded the hero 
of the tale. " If 't had sort of gone a-glidin' round and round like ord'- 
nary spirits, 't would have been diff 'rent, but that hoppin' was awful ! " 

" Have you seen it since ? " asked Reynolds, who privately suspected that 
spirits within rather than spirits without had bewildered Jerry's vision on 
that occasion. 

"Seen it since!" echoed Jerry, sarcastically. "What do you take 
me for? No, sir-ee, I ain't been travelin' over that road much lately. The 
river road's sjood enough for me." 

" Well, what do you say to walking round that way to-night and in- 
vestigating matters, Jerry? If three or four of us go you can't get hurt, 
hopping or no hopping. Besides, if anything were needed to prove that this 
is no genuine ghost, its coming at nine o'clock is enough. No self-respecting 
spirit has any business to walk or hop until midnight." 

Finally, after much discussion, Jerry consented to join the hunt on two 
conditions, — one, that two of his cronies, who had shown slight symptoms 
of scepticism on the subject of ghosts, should accompany the party ; the 
other, that Mr. Reynolds should solemnly promise to "quit foolin' with 
spooks " whenever Jerry gave the word, and land him safely at his own 

Jack objected to this last condition, but, finding Jerry immovable, 
agreed to the terms, and the men separated for supper, promising to meet 
at the office again at half-past eight. 

As Jack was hanging up his hat in the hall, on reaching home, he 
heard a voice in the parlor that he knew, and going in found that the min- 


ister's daughter had brought her college roommate to call on his mother. 
The guests were just preparing to leave. 

Jack fancied that the lovely color in Margaret Ferrin's cheeks grew a 
shade deeper as she greeted him and introduced her friend, and his heart 
beat faster at the thought. 

" Won't you come over this evening, Jack, and learn to know my 
friend better?" Margaret asked, adding, " Her family is hard-hearted enough 
to claim her for at least half the vacation, so the visit will be provokingly 

" I'm awfully sorry, Margaret. I wish I could, but I have an engage- 
ment at half-past eight, and it will be too late when I get back. It's a 
foolish performance, too, but I feel bound to carry it through now, and 
see if I can't make Jerry Hawkins's head fit a smaller hat." 

Seeing the inquiring look on the faces of his mother and her guests, 
he told them of the Plympton ghost, and of the evening's plans. 

" What a lark it will be ! O, Margaret, don't you wish we were 
men ? " cried the pretty roommate, as Jack finished his story. 

Margaret smiled up at the tall young fellow whose eyes were protest- 
ing against such a suggestion, and said quietly: "I'm not sure but women 
can hunt ghosts as well as men. I'm fairly satisfied as I am, Lena." 

After the girls had gone, Jack ate his supper, and then retired to the 
unlighted library where, in the depths of a great Turkish easy-chair, he lay 
and dreamed of Margaret until the musical chiming of the mantel clock 
warned him it was time to make ready for the evening's expedition. 

It was just nine when the four young men struck into the stretch of 
road that led by the "Old North Burying Ground." As they neared the 
row of rotten fence pickets, Jerry walked more cautiously, clutching Rey- 
nolds's arm in a vise-like grip. The two sceptics followed close behind. 
When the party came opposite the haunted spot Jerry's clutch tightened, 
and Reynolds could feel him trembling from head to foot. 

"There 'tis!" 

Jerry's sepulchral whisper might almost have been heard by the spectre 
itself, which was hovering airily around in the further corner of the enclosure. 
As the men stood in silence in the road, following with amazed eyes the 
movements of the shape, it vanished, and almost instantly reappeared in 


the opposite corner. Then the "hoppin'" began. Back and forth bobbed 
the spectre from side to side, as if bent on proving Jerry's veracity beyond 
cavil. This was enough. The sceptics, shorn of their scepticism, fled 
panic stricken, with exclamations which have been eliminated from the 
vocabulary of polite society, and hence are unrecorded ; while Jerry rushed 
forward along the road pulling the astonished Reynolds after him by main 
force, never slackening his pace until a good quarter of a mile lay between 
him and the fated spot. Even then he did not stop, but stumbled on, still 
clutching his companion's arm and mumbling to himself. Occasionally Jack 
caught a word, "I'll put — mastiff — two curs " 

Realizing that the man was actually beside himself with nervous terror, 
Reynolds choked back the words of contempt he was longing to utter, and 
strode on in silence. At Jerry's door they parted, and Jack plodded back 
to town past the graveyard, opposite which he stopped and looked and 
listened, but nothing appeared. 

"I'll probe that thing to the bottom, or my name's not John Reynolds, 
Jr.," he said to himself as he tumbled into bed. 

He spent the next evening with Margaret and her friend. They were 
curious to know the result of the hunt, and Lena was inclined to badger 
him a little on the failure of the trip. 

"Did you really hang back so very much when Jerry was pulling 
you?" she asked roguishly; and Jack, in self-defense, reiterated his inten- 
tion of dealing with the problem single handed the following night. 

At five minutes past nine he was again at his post opposite the burying 
ground, with a small dark lantern in his hand. A few minutes later, with 
commendable promptness, the spectre appeared in the accustomed corner. 
Jack did not wait in the road many minutes, but by a circuitous route out- 
side the fence began to creep toward the spot where the ghost had first 

"If 'hoppin 'is its strong point, as Jerry claims," he said to himself, 
"it will come back to this corner, even if it has bobbed over to the other, 
by the time I get up to the fence. So I'll just wait here on this side instead 
of chasing it." But 

"The best laid schemes o' mice an' men 
Gang aft a-gley." 


So Jack found, for the provoking shape began balancing on the opposite 
side of the enclosure, and bob back it would not. 

Wearying at last of this coquetry on the part of his spectral companion, 
Jack climbed stealthily over the fence and began to make his way across the 
uneven surface of the burying ground. Suddenly he became conscious of a 
presence. He heard nothing, and, on drawing back the lantern slide and 
shifting the light from side to side, he at first saw nothing. Just as he was 
about to push on, he noticed something that looked like the edge of a 
woman's dress projecting from behind a moss-grown stone. He stalked 
around and demanded, in a gruff voice, "Who are you?" There was no 
answer, and he turned the light on the crouching figure. Then the ghost's 
double, shaking with suppressed laughter on the further side of the enclosure, 
heard his amazed exclamation, "Margaret !" 

"Yes, please, it's I," came faintly from below the lantern. 

"But what are you doing here?" he asked, bewildered, as she sprang 
to her feet. 

"Doing here?" she repeated. "Why, don't you understand. Jack? 
I'm part of the ghost ! " 

"No, I don't understand. The ghost was white." 

"Shut off the light an instant." 

Jack obeyed. Margaret retreated a few yards, and throwing back the 
dark cape that covered her from head to foot, showed a gleaming white gown 
beneath. Standing on a fallen tombstone she swayed back and forth a 
minute, then drew the cape about her once more. The ghost had vanished. 

"What will your father, and the church people, and your college pro- 
fessors say when they hear of this prank?" demanded Jack, with assumed 
severity, as Margaret came back. 

"Father! the church — Oh, Jack, you won't tell a soul, will you? 
You couldn't be so cruel!" she pleaded, coming close to him and laying 
her hand on his arm. 

Her touch thrilled him. 

"It was just a joke, and — Oh, Jack, you won't tell !" 

Her distress was so genuine that Jack began to relent. Besides 
Margaret was so very near him and so distractingly pretty, viewed even by 
the light of a dark lantern, that it was too hard merely to pretend to be 


stern, so he said, magnanimously, "Well, seeing it's you, Margaret, I'll 
promise — " She gave a sigh of relief. "If — " 

She looked up. The brown eyes met the blue eyes inquiringly, and 
then turned hastily away, with a startled light in them. 

Jack hesitated. Something about "a tide in the affairs of men" flitted 
through his mind. He decided on a bold stroke. 

"I'll promise not to tell, if " His voice faltered. He threw the 

light full on her face. Her eyes were downcast. She was trembling. The 
sentence was never finished. The lantern fell to the ground, and Margai^et 
found herself clasped in Jack's arms, with ardent kisses falling on eyes, 
brow, cheeks, and lips. 

A little later she started guiltily. "Lena !" she exclaimed. 

"What of her?" asked Jack, indifferently, loth to give up his sweet 
Margaret so soon. 

"Why," penitently, "she's been waiting over across the burying 
ground all this time. You know she's the rest of the °host." 

One evening, some twelve months later, not long after Margaret Ferrin 
had become Margaret Reynolds, on which occasion Lena had officiated as 
maid of honor, to the great satisfaction of bride and groom, .Jack said, 
approvingly : "I like that friend of yours, Margaret. I'll never forget how 
she had sense enough to stay on the opposite side of the burying ground 
that night I went ghost hunting, and didn't come poking around as nine 
out of every ten girls would have done. I call her mighty clever." 

Jack did not see the mischievous gleam in his wife's eyes, as she 
answered heartily, "Yes, Lena is a lovely girl ;" adding, hesitatingly, "but 
I don't think she deserves so very much credit for that." 

"Why not?" demanded Jack. 

Margaret took one of her husband's big hands in her two little ones, 
and began industriously to braid and unbraid his fingers. 

"Oh, nothing, Jack, only — only I told Lena beforehand that if you 
should happen to find me first, perhaps — she'd — better not come — over — 
too soon ! " 

\ Maey Jenks Page, '88 



" Say, come back here, you young son of a gun ! That's a fine mare 
you're on. Where do you live?" 

" On the other side," returned the boy, shortly, jerking his head in the 
direction of the river, while he kept at a safe distance and watched the group 
of gray coats with alert eyes. His questioner rose and sauntered toward 
him, but Isaac dug his heels into the brown mare's flanks and was off in a 
cloud of dust. A short laugh rose from the other men, but a squarely built, 
sandy haired fellow took his pipe from his mouth to call, menacingly — 

"All right, young Neil, I know you, and you won't keep that mare 
long, I tell you." 

The boy's heart beat quickly as he urged the mare to the brink of the 
river and forded it with much splashing hurry. He could trust himself to 
Brown Betty's fleet legs for the present, and had no fear of pursuit from the 
only two mounted Confederates, but one of them had recognized him and 
probably knew his home. He cursed himself inwardly, but he was too 
good a Quaker lad to give outward vent to his tempestuous feelings. Noth- 
ing but that reckless curiosity so often reproved by his mother had brought 
him into the midst of hostile forces. There was always some risk in taking 
Betty over the Potomac, but a visit to his married sister was imperative, and 
he had pleaded to ride the mare instead of one of the rough-gaited mules. 
Jimmie or Dave had always before gone on this monthly visit into Maryland 
to carry home cured hams, and bring back coffee and tea, and Isaac had been 
so elated with the sense of his importance that he had hardly listened to final 
warnings as his mother waved him a good-by at the stile. Then Maggie and 
he had spent the evening discussing the nearness of the Confederates ; but 
what gave her a sense of danger and the fear of a descent on her carefully 
kept store of supplies had for the impetuous Isaac only a tinge of interest 
and excitement. 

"Are they so very near?" he asked. "Thee knows I've never seen a 
whole regiment yet ; only those stragglers who dropped in to spend the 
night, or get mother to carry messages to their sweethearts next time she 
crossed the line." 

"Thee needn't want to see a regiment, Isaac," answered the sensible 


sister. "It would mean losing Betty surely. The soldiers are very short 
of good horses." 

But the adventurous Isaac left early next morning and took a circuitous 
route over those well-known Maryland roads to catch a nearer glimpse of 
this division of Jackson's troops. He wondered if they were all as ragged 
and unkempt looking as the company that passed below him, while he stood 
concealed in the bushes on the hillside, one hand over Betty's nose to keep 
her quiet. Then by bridle paths and byways he had nearly reached the 
homeward road and had only one more dangerous stretch to pass. Exul- 
tantly he patted Betty's neck and let her drop into an easy trot. Then it was 
that he had come upon the group of soldiers lounging and smoking by the 
roadside, their horses picketed close at hand. They were as much surprised 
as he, or he would never have reached the Potomac in safety. 

" That short, red-haired Johnnie was Bill Morris, I bet," he thought to 
himself, as Betty climbed the bank on the Virginia side and settled into an 
easy lope. "He's been at our house over night, and mother gave him all 
he wanted to eat and smoke. I always tell her she's too good to those 
fellows, for they know we're Union, and they'd do a mean thing any day. 
O, Betty," and he patted her remorsefully, "if I only keep you all right and 
tight this time, I'll never take you over the line again till the war's done 

Then he raised his eyes at the sound of advancing horsemen to behold 
a sight that made him dash his boots violently against the mare's sides. 
With a spring she quickened her gallop, and had almost brushed through 
the line of troops coming round a bend in the road when a strong arm jerked 
at the bridle with a force and quickness that brought the mare to a dead stop, 
and threw her rider to the around. 

" Hello, sonny ! Hope you're not hurt, but you mustn't try to stampede 
us that way. We'll have to trouble you for the loan of that horse. Here, 
Tim, get up, and take the little chap on behind you." 

The dazed Isaac looked up in dismayed silence, too stunned by the sud- 
den turn of affairs to rebel as Tim pulled him to his feet, and helped him up 
behind. Then the troop continued their eastward trot, Tim's own horse tied 
to that of a comrade. They stopped for a bit of hard bacon and Johnny- 
cake at the house of an old negro woman. The soldiers chatted and laughed, 


but Isaac, too absorbed to think of anything but his bruised head and shoul- 
der, caught only unintelligible murmurs. Presently the young lieutenant 
crossed over to the log where the boy sat. 

"See here, sonny, I guess you know all the roads about here, don't 
you? We want you to show us a good fording place a mile or two lower 
down, and then we'll drop you, and let you run home." 

The boy nodded miserably, and the tears crept again to his eyes as he 
watched the lost Betty contentedly cropping grass not ten yards distant. As 
they mounted again, the lank trooper Tim aired a choice vocabulary of oaths 
at the necessity for taking Isaac up behind him. 

" He's such a blame squirmy youngster," he explained to the frowning 
lieutenant. " But we'll go it a bit slow and keep to the rear, and mebbe he 
won't joggle so. Get up, you young rascal." 

They fell behind the others, and Tim resumed his disjointed talk : ' ' 

bad roads about here, but then? Say, have you got a head on you, young 
one? Well, keep it open then. I've got an infernal stone in my boot, and 
I'm goin' to get down here and take it off. I'll let you hold my gun for me, 
thinkin' you pretty innocent, and not havin' much sense on my own account, 
accordin' to some. What am I doin' this for? Well, that's none of your 
business. Your mother was mighty good to me last year, and mebbe you 
have got a pretty sister, and mebbe you haven't. Now, off with you ! " and 
he gave the mare a stinging slap with his hand. 

Isaac and Betty disappeared in a cloud of dust, pursued by a frantic, 
swearing soldier with one boot off and his pistol gone. A shot from his 
remaining weapon ploughed into the road behind them, but the two were out 
of sight before the angry soldier reached his comrades and the impatient 
lieutenant. Isaac did not know that Tim first hindered, and then led a blun- 
dering pursuit for a mile or two down the wrong road ; but careless of further 
danger, and gratefully joyous for his escape, the lad urged on the docile 
Betty till the spring sun sank behind the mountain, and the first white- 
washed gate of " Pleasant Valley " farm appeared. 

Margaret Neil scolded the boy sharply when she heard the broken, 
eager recital, but she bathed the bruises tenderly, and tucked him into bed 
after a supper of his favorite waffles and honey. 

"Thee is very much like thy father, Isaac, and he lost his life by his 


rashness. But thee had a good friend in Tim Waterbury," she said as she 
left him. The boy needed the rest after the day's trouble, and in preparation 
for the coming trouble on the morrow. For next day, just as they finished 
breakfast, there came two mounted Confederates who stopped at the stile to 
tie their horses, and strode across the porch with clanking spurs. 

Mrs. Neil heard their errand, and there was a gentle dignity but no 
reproach in her voice as she replied to Tim : " Friend, does thee not know 
that this is no better than stealing? But if thee has orders, of course thee 
must obey them. Let me give thee and thy friend a cup of coffee, and then 
Isaac will show the way to the meadow. The color rose even in Bill Nor- 
ris's hard face. "No, thank you, ma'am," he said gruffly, but Tim inter- 
posed: "Nonsense, Bill. It's a long sight better'n any coffee you've seen 
this six months, and you better take it. Sit down ; " and the lank, blue-eyed 
soldier planted himself beside his young captive of the day before, leaving 
his comrade to the care of the hostess. Isaac eyed him defiantly and curi- 
ously, much troubled at this double-dealing on Tim's part. Presently they 
began a subdued conversation, and the anger faded from Isaac's eyes. Soon 
the two rose and went out, leaving Bill to enjoy corn pone with the zest and 
appetite of a true Southerner. 

" I reckon you never played any such fool trick on a horse, youngster, 
as I'm goin' to show you now. I tried it when I w T as a kid, and got well 
thrashed for it. There's just one thing about it, it never fails." 

"I'm afraid it won't work," said the boy hopelessly. "She's the 
gentlest little thing; she'll let anybody catch her." 

As they let down the bars and entered the meadow, Brown Betty ran up 
with a joyous whinny and thrust her nose against Isaac's shoulder. 

"None o' yer nonsense, miss," said the soldier. "Look out, kid!" 
Grasping the mare, he thrust a hand into his pocket and rubbed it furiously 
against the mare's nose. There was a cough, and an angry skurry of hoofs. 
Brown Betty was at the other end of the field racing furiously up and down, 
and Tim sneezed loudly. 

"Good Lord, I got some of it myself that time. Now sit down and let 
her scamper, and after a bit we'll go back and let friend Bill come out and 
have a try." 

Friend Bill came, scornful and assured. "Th' ain't nothin' he don't 


know about horses," remarked Tim, confidentially, as he leaned against a tree 
panting from his exertions. 

Bill crossed the field with a bridle artfully concealed and an apple 
temptingly extended. Betty let him come within twenty feet, then raised 
her head and watched him intently as he crept slowly nearer, while anxiety 
grew 7 on Isaac's face, and Tim chewed a blade of grass in deep meditation. 
Suddenly the mare let out her hoofs with a jerk and darted across the 
meadow, leaving Bill stretched his length. The furious trooper rose to coax, 
and swear, and pursue, — all to no purpose. 

"I never saw her kick any one before," said Isaac, wonderingly. 

"Red pepper's a mighty good bracer," said his friend. "She needs a 
little temper. Come along now, let's help make her madder. That's about 
what he's at." 

Three hours later the men had gone without their prize, but Isaac lay in 
the grass and sobbed, for Brown Betty would no longer come at his call. 

Rachel Schofield Hoge, '98. 


A cloud-flecked sky of dazzling blue 

Bends round, in glistening circle bright, 
The dancing waters' darker hue 

Just lightened by the wave-tips white. 
That stretching curve of golden light 

Is but the long strip of the strand, 
Still strewn with wreckage of the night, 

When the sea sobs along the sand. 

Fresh, strong, the wholesome breezes, too, 

That catch the spray with sportive might, 
And drop it, like a briny dew, 

On that sparse bay-plant toward the right. 
Strong are they, yet think not of fight 

With the wave-monsters' cruel baud, 
Nor of the fisher's bitter plight 

When the sea sobs along the sand. 


When I, far off from ship and crew, 

My heart with sea-desires excite, 
The Norway pines, in accents true, 

Almost my saddened soul requite ; 
For, swaying from their towering height, 

They moan, and here, within the land, 
Call up the surges to my sight 

"When the sea sobs along the sand. 


Oh mystic pines ! an impulse slight 
Brings back, as here I lonely stand, 

That slow, sad music's deep delight 
When the sea sobs along the sand. 


R. C. 

Teddy sat by the window gazing out into the sunshine. He was think- 
ing. Beyond doubt, his thoughts were not wholly pleasant, for a great tear 
was slowly making its way down his cheek, leaving a little clean path as it 
went. When the time came for it to part company with the soft curve, it 
dropped with a ' ' plash " on the window sill, where it lay and sparkled un- 
noticed in the sunshine. Teddy had good reason to think and be sad. In 
fact, Norah had set him down there none too gently and had told him to 
think. And why? Just because he had been trying ever since morning to 
help everybody in every w r ay he could. 

The very first thing after breakfast he had gone out into the kitchen to 
help Norah wipe the dishes, for it was Monday and she was in a hurry to 
finish her washing. It wasn't his fault that one of mamma's choicest cups 
had slipped through his fingers and fallen to the floor. He gulped down a 
sob as he thought of mamma's grieved face when he told her. 

Poor mamma ! she went to her room shortly after, to lie down, for 
something inside her head hurt. Teddy thought he would go and "stroke 
it." He opened the door noisily, — he couldn't help the old thing's squeak- 
ing, — just as mamma was dropping into a sweet sleep. Then as he was try- 
ing to find his way to the couch, in the dim light which came through the 
closed blinds, he stumbled over a chair which of course upset and made an 
awful bang. Then mamma's head hurt worse than ever, and Norah rushed in 


and ignominiously hustled him out. He did wish that Norah would not take 
hold of his hand with her soapy fingers ! 

O dear, and that wasn't all ! Topsy, his white kitten, came up to -him 
as he sat on the back doorstep wondering what to do next. She rubbed her 
head affectionately against his hand. Her whiskers tickled it and he snatched 
it away. Then a bright thought struck him. He had heard somewhere that 
cats either smelt or felt, he couldn't remember which, with their whiskers. 
Topsy didn't have very many. Why couldn't he make her some more ! He 
had some lovely black horsehairs upstairs which would just match Topsy's 
white ones, giving a beautiful effect like the zebra he saw at the circus. He 
could paste them on with mucilage. To be sure, the mucilage was in papa's 
study, and he had been forbidden to go in there when papa was away, but 
he never thought of that. Here Teddy hitched about a little uneasily in his 
chair. He wished he could forget a little black river which was coursinsr 
slowly over some papers and then dripping into the wastebasket. He might 
be mistaken as to its nature, however. He had just caught a glimpse of it 
as he closed the door and it might very well be a shadow. 

Then of course mamma's workbasket had tipped over when he went to 
get the scissors to cut the horsehair into proper lengths. And O dear, O 
dear ! how Topsy did growl and scratch when he tried to paste the whiskers 
on ! It brought Norah out from the laundry, and she had called him " the 
most middlesome b'y she ever saw, she belaved the very divil was in him." 
Then it was that she had taken him and set him down" hard on this chair by 
the dining-room window, telling him to sit there and think awhile. 

How blue the sky was ! Probably it would rain by afternoon when he 
could go out again. There were some clouds up there now. He believed 
it was going to rain right off and then Norah couldn't dry her clothes. It 
would be good enough for her, the spiteful old thing ; she was always poking 
into his affairs ! O dear ! mamma didn't like him to call Norah that. Mamma 
said, too, that we must do good to those who spitefully use us. But then, 
he couldn't do Norah any good. He couldn't keep it from raining, unless — 
why couldn't he sweep the cobwebs out of the sky just as well as the old 
woman ! He wasn't nearly as heavy as she must have been, so he could go 
up in a basket lots easier. There was Norah's clothes basket right out there 
in the yard, too. Was there a wind blowing? Yes, he could see the rooster 
on the barn spinning gaily around in the breeze. 


Teddy jumped down from his chair and trotted out into the kitchen. 

" Norah !" he shouted, but Norah had disappeared somewhere. 

" Where's the broom? Norah, No-orah ! where do you keep — oh, here 
it is ! " 

Out into the clothes yard he ran, the broom trailing behind him. 

" If Norah hasn't gone and left some old wet clothes in this basket. I 
s'pose I'll have to take 'em out." 

He tugged and strained at the wet, heavy things, until the last of Norah's 
clean linen lay in the dirt. Teddy looked at it dubiously. For the first 
time he thought " What will Norah say?" He decided on the whole that the 
wind would be better the other side of the house, out of range of the laundry 
windows. The basket was pretty heavy to drag around. He tumbled down 
once and grazed the skin on his knee, and bumped his nose on the handle. 
But he didn't cry. He only winked hard for a moment. 

Once safely out of Norah's sight he dropped the basket and hopped in. 
He sat down, the broom over his shoulder, and waited. The breeze lifted 
the curls on his heated little forehead, and threatened to carry away the big 
hat, but paid no attention to the basket. It was hard work sitting so still. 
The broom was heavy, too — he couldn't hold it on one shoulder very long at 
a time. 

Perhaps the breeze would find it easier to carry him up if he should lie 
down in the basket. Yes, that was much more comfortable. Now he could 
see the soft clouds above him. They wouldn't stay there long though. He 
could sweep them away, for he had watched Norah sweep the kitchen and 
he knew just how to make the broom go. The light hurt his eyes. He 
would shut them just for a moment — 

" Teddy Douglas, jump out av that basket this minute ! If yez haven't 
gone and shpoilt me whole mornin's washiu' ! " 

" O Norah," he wailed, " I was just going to sweep the clouds away so 
that you could dry }'our clothes. I wasn't naughty." 

Norah steeled her heart against the sleepy blue eyes, now swimming in 
tears. With a grim silence she marched him into the dining room and set 
him down once more in the chair. 

Teddy began to think again. As he thought a tear rolled down his cheek 
and fell where its brother had stained the sill only a short time before. 

Margaket Merrill, '99. 



To the superficial reader it may seem that in a department which is, in 
a certain sense, a partial record of the otherwise unrecorded ins and outs of 
college girls, children's stories are out of place. We would reply that chil- 
dren's stories are never out of place. From the time when Thackeray's 
small daughter queried innocently, " Father, why don't you write stories 
like Mr. Dickens's?" to the day of our own Boston infant phenomenon, 
parents have delighted to parade their bahies' sayings, as, indeed, they 
probably were in the days of Homer, though he never confessed it. They 
certainly have a marvelous capacity for going directly to the point with an 
honesty less often found in their elders. A friend of mine, prejudiced 
against women's colleges as being fatally productive of educated invalids, 
has a small daughter of five, who, in spite of parental discouragement, is on 
the high road to advanced learning. Indeed she goes farther than many 
college girls, and plans already a medical career. The other day she was 
having a most absorbing time preparing paper pills for some of her father's 
friends. Finally she went into the next room to attend a very bad case. 
In a moment there rushed in an excited little girl with well-counterfeited 
alarm. " Oh," she cried, " there's a man dying in the next room! Does 
anyone here know how to mix a cocktail ? " 

To save the reputation of my small Kentucky and Virginia friends I 
must confess that this young lady lived in Boston. The characteristics at- 
tributed to people in certain sections of the country are not always truly 
typical, though on the other side it might be urged that the small doctor 
was merely showing the traditional brain development. Southern children, 
on the contrary, have a guilelessness and naivete that is very touching. 
Witness a letter that I saw the other day from a young Virginian : "I 
suppose you know that to-day is my birthday, and if you send me anything, 
send me a penwiper, as it is one of the things I need most in school, as 
I usually wipe my pen on my stocking." 

Could anyone, however critically minded, call this sweet frankness mere 
effrontery, and the last clause an unblushing and well-calculated appeal to 
the sympathies? It is just the modesty and disregard of appearances, in- 
difference to public opinion, you might say, that I heartily approve. I regret 
to say that my friend, the recipient of the letter, has not yet sent the pen- 



Examinations have been in the air, for the most part very much above 
us, and have given us more trouble in making our way than the piled snow- 
drifts and whirling flakes outside. Surely never was seen such zeal for 
"systematic reviewing," the name current in polite society, though many of 
us know the process by a briefer and more familiar term. In conjunction 
with this study there has been a very popular form of entertainment known 
as the symposium. We heard an indiscreet and irreverent junior term it a 
"composite cram," but from such a thought our very souls recoil in horror. 
Thorough conscientious study there has been, no doubt, even from those who 
carefully, vainly learned the list of Hebrew kings with dates. One girl, 
serenely confident that the efforts of a deserving student could never be 
utterly unappreciated, exclaimed, "Well, I've learned that classification by 
heart at last, and if she doesn't ask for it, I am going to put it down anyway 
at the end of the paper." "Yes ; and label it, 'This also I know,'" advised 
a sympathetic friend. It was proposed by another frank-hearted young 
enthusiast that all the girls at her table should bring their non-credit notes, 
provided such came, to dinner, and so triumph over false pride. For some 
reason there was not an eager response, or perhaps every student at that table 
received credit in all her courses. 

But wherefore these reminiscences ? It certainly is much better to put 
the past bravely behind us, if we have been, let us say, unfortunate, and turn 
our faces to the work of the second semester. 


Recently we heard the wish expressed by one of the faculty that there 
might be, as indeed she hoped there would be in time, a closer and better 
understanding between teacher and student. We as students from time to 
time express our opinions very strongly in regard to acts of legislation, but 
chiefly in undergraduate circles. A friend, enthusiastic and hopeful, feels 
that she has found the remedy for any misunderstanding, and confides it to 
us. We may at least suggest it. A sister college of high standing, though 


not in name or appearance self-governing, has made a step in that direction. 
A senate composed of students and faculty has weekly meetings, when long 
conferences are held and subjects connected with undergraduate interests 
freely discussed. The student part of the congress has not the power of 
legislation, but wide scope of recommendation or suggestion. Presidents of 
classes and heads of clubs, athletic, social, and the like, are delegates to the 
congress, that every college interest may be fully and fairly represented. 

We have strong hopes that there is among our friends the faculty, at 
least, a favorable leaning toward the formation of an advisory committee from 
the students. We have heard no criticism concerning the practicability of 
the plan. It certainly seems useful. As yet we feel that we are too young 
and unfledged to voice the cry of our forefathers, "No taxation without 
representation." Indeed, knowing the heavy burden of responsibility that 
self-governing colleges have taken upon themselves, we shrink from the 
additional weight. Yet to our minds the very fact and feeling of representa- 
tion occasionally in the councils of the Olympians would make for a closer 
union and better understanding between faculty and student. 


For years the "pale, tired seniors " have been one of the traditional 
college types. Jokes on their harassed condition have been worn much more 
than threadbare. Last year a kindly disposed council took away the bur- 
den of June examinations, and the lot of the graduating class was easier 
to bear. This year they are doing something for themselves. Health has 
become of such vital importance that we have now an evening gymnasium 
class for seniors. Tuesdays and Fridays at the weird hour of nine you 
can see them stealing along the corridors muffled in mackintoshes or the 
ever-useful senior gown. 

It puts us in mind of our freshman year when we dutifully climbed 
the rib-walls or swung from ropes as directed, with daring hopes of getting 
on the crew or the basket-ball team. These vesper frolics in the gymna- 
sium are hopefully productive of high spirits and presumably of peaceful 
slumber later on. With many hitherto unheai'd-of advantages the senior 
class should certainly leave college with bounding health and energy. 
Will it? 


We are certainly becoming in many ways more athletic as a college. 
It is not so much the number of organized sports as the interest that is 
taken in them, and in out-door fun generally. The winter season is a kind 
of hibernating period when the athletic young animal retires to indoor 
haunts, only reappearing in the skating season, perhaps to flourish a hockey 
stick on the ice, and enthusiastically give and take black eyes and bruised 
thumbs. This inspiring zeal was pictorially evident in an " athletic" opera 
given bv one of the cottages, where lungs were used to great effect and the 
tune of $30, it is rumored. The proceeds from this exhibition of native 
talent are to be used to keep the lake clear of snow. The money ought to 
come in very opportunely for the next skating season. 



The mid-year period of 1898 is true to its traditional character — it still 
solves mysteries. To it we tender our profoundest thanks for vielding up 
an old, old secret. It has taught us how to make money? Let the doubter 
visit certain enterprising tables in the dining room. He will at once feel 
that something unusual stirs the air. Conversation walks on stilts. Hun- 
gry eyes watch every girl who dares to speak. An innocent freshman is 

heard remarking to her neighbor that she does not think the exam 

That is as far as she gets, for with a whoop of triumph the whole table 
is down upon her. " Another five cents," says one ; while a second reports 
with gloating that there is $1.40 in the treasury. 

O' magic word, that coinest money on a Klondike scale ! Nothing need 
limit our ambition were Wellesley to adopt the system of tabooed words 
and fines. Methinks I see a new gymnasium on the campus, a handful of 
new dormitories, and an endowment fund to carry them on. How simple 
the recipe, how great the results. Just resolve you won't use the word, and 
the fortune is made. We can afford to laugh at the alchemist, for we have 
learned to touch upon a topic, and straightway " words are silver." 

F. E. B , '98. 



revised version of burns. 

"0 wad the power the giftie gie us 
To hear oursels as others hear us," 

especially after 10 p. m., when roommates proclaim cheerfully through 
open transoms items of intimate personal interest, which only sleepily 
annoy us then, though delicious at other times. 

M., '98. 

The Free Press seems lately to have become chiefly a means of 
expressing gratitude for favors conferred. Like the small boy who was 
asked one Thanksgiving Day to write down a list of his special benefits, 
some of us feel inclined to say simply and generally that we are "thankful 
for everything." What has pleased us most just now, however, is the fore- 
thought of the faculty in putting no examinations these midyears on Mon- 
day. It has certainly prevented some Sunday studying, and it has given 
many of the girls a better chance to rest than they had last year. I wonder 
only that the otherwise was ever considered. 



The magazines this month are unusually full of fiction. The college 
story is gaining in popularity, and, to some extent, in worth. Yet it seems 
hardly fair to accept all attempts in this line on the same grounds that we 
accept other works. In appreciating or criticising the average college story 
we seem to feel it perfectly right to overlook most of the foundation prin- 
ciples on which a good story should be founded, simply because it has the 
college "atmosphere" and the local "touch." We follow a long-drawn-out, 
colorless, purposeless train of thought, and call it good, because we in 
college are in a position to appreciate what situation, or lack of situation, 
the story may be dealing with. The comments of an outsider are too often 
more cruelly true. We are, of course, a most interesting race, we college 
people, but to whom more interesting than to ourselves? And while we 


may be able to swallow our own doses, is it the best training for those of us 
who hope some time to make those doses tell beyond the college grounds ? 

In the Williams Lit. is a very creditable story, "The Shadow of the 
God," taking first prize in a contest proposed by the Lit. Its merits are 
evident, — strong action and a simple style. An article on Sienkiewicz shows 
doubtful appreciation of the many-sided nature of that genius by stating 
that " Quo Vadis " is his best work. The " Dark-faced One," is excellently 
told, its tragic close, though a little startling, being well supported. 

The Vassar Miscellany contains among its light articles " A Fellow's 
Forgetting," sympathetically done, and " A Camera and the Baby," racy and 
interesting. Its leading article, " The Influence of Goethe upon Carlyle," 
is very able, showing, we trust, that the alumnre mind is still active. 

The Yale Oourant for January, third week, is decidedly interesting. Its 
prose is rapid, vivid, and free from any tendencies toward flatness. Its first 
story, " The Two Who Went In and Came Out," though savoring a bit of 
Davis (or is it Kipling?), narrates with composure the wondrous adventures 
of two of our typical modern college men in winning for the Dey of the 
absolute monarchy of Trivoli, a victory over an untrained mob of half- 
naked natives who are revolting in favor of son Dey, a chubby cherub of 
five. This they do largely by strength of fist and power of song, — as all 
Yale athletes might be supposed to do ; the whole affair being so analogous 
to some of their own home sports, that at the end one of the heroes is found 
reeling at the end of one of the barricades with two empty whiskey bottles 
by his side. The author cheerfully promises us much more in the same vein. 
"The Martyr," and "An Unexpected Ally," though hardly more than 
sketches, are good ones; while " Sherwood's Sister," treating of her prema- 
ture meeting with " Sherwood's" friend, is a lively, natural bit of everyday 
life. He of the Kipling-Davis type gives us a ballad original for modern 
college verse, but plentifully besprinkled through work of the ancients. We 
think he hardly gains by the versification. For the benefit of the R. C. of 
this College we " clip" a New Haven attempt at " Rondeaux." 

The Amherst Lit. for January seems unusually good, though it may be 
profiting by our expansive mood. Its first two stories, " E. Purgatorio," 
and "A Vision Between," are written with an earnestness which makes them 
particularly acceptable ; though the plot of the latter hinges on such vague 


occurrences that one is led to wonder whether the author had anything more 
definite in his own mind. "From a Student Point of View/' gives a very 
grave exposition of the graduate's situation in finding himself untrained in the 
business lines he will likely work upon. The author urges — though some- 
what indefinitely — the adoption of some training course of method by all 
colleges. "The Acquittal of Jake Bradley, Shooter," is very much above 
the average college story. 

The Cornell Magazine remiuds us again that the } r oung college writer 
of college stories is still with us ; he also attempts an appreciation of Walt 
Whitman, honest, but not altogether convincing. 

The Brown Magazine, which sighs in its reviews for more solid material 
in their college publications, gives us a dose of "Pessimism" and " Emer- 
son " in the same number. In comparing it with the lighter work, we un- 
derstand Brown's desire to do less of the latter. 

The Smith College Monthly is good from beginning to end. Both prose 
and verse are much above the average. "Kipling's India" is excellently 
done, sincerely appreciative and interesting, which is more than can be said 
of all comments on Kipling. " The Imp's Matinee," is probably the clever- 
est among several good stories, while the verse " Lullaby Loo" is especially 

Tlie Inlander gives us two amusing college stories, "Tommy Ben- 
brook's Christmas" and " An Embarrassing Situation." 

The Columbia Lit. for this month contains fiction quite out of the usual 
college line, — " On the Road to Mandalay," and "A Trick of the Trade." 
Its verse also is not of the commonplace order, and seems particularly alive. 

From the poetiy of the month we select the following : — 


O Lullaby Loo goes wandering by 
When the dusky shadows of evening fall, 

And the stars have lighted their lamps in the sky, 
And the owls and night birds begin to call — 
'•Te-witt, tee- woo — tee-witt, tee-whoo-00 ! 

O Lullabv Loo. O Lullabv Loo ! " 


TThen Lullaby Loo goes wandering by - 
The leaves all fall asleep on the trees 

And home to their nests all the little birds By • 
Then softly whispers the evening breeze : 
• - S oo hoo, soo boo, O Lullaby Loo I 

O Lullaby Loo. soo hoo, soo hoo I " 

O Lullaby Loo. as he wanders by. 
A strange little sleepy song he sings 

That soothes frightened children when they cry. 
For it tells of the loveliest, cosiest things 

And he'll sing it to me, and he'll sing it to you ! 

And he'll sing to us all, this Lullaby L 

O Lullaby Loo. when you wander by, 
Stop at the nursery window to-night ! 

And sing to us while in our beds we lie, 
AH cuddled up so warm and tight ! 

O Lullaby Loo. Lullaby Loo. 

Sing to us. sing to us. Lullaby Loc 

— fi tl -V: ' 


They called her " the woman who didn't care" — 

It was little good that they said of her — 
They cursed the God that made he: : . 

And false ; and only because they were 

Too blind to see (that was selfishness 

Behind the lies that she told them. Well, 
They had not the wit or the love to guess 

The shame and sorrow she did not tell. 

They were right. — she had seen too much of men. 

They were right — not one of the lot could touch 
Her heart, however she smiled. But th 

It was only because she had cared too much. 

— W Li. 


At eventide the western sky, 

Forgetful of the dayspring nigh, 
Sinks sorrowful to tender gray, 
Grows faint, still fainter, fades away — 

Out beams the evening star on high. 

The wooing winds with wistful sigh, 
Breathing soft secrets tenderly, 
Caress rose petals on their way 
At eventide ; 

And as they sweep serenely by, 
Borne on their wings there comes a cry 
From forest depths where shadows play : 
The whippoorwill laments the day, 
Moaning his sad plaint ceaselessly, 
At eventide. 

— Yale Courant. 


Burke: Speech on Conciliation with America. Edited with notes and 
au introduction by Hammond Lamont, Associate Professor of Rhetoric in 
Brown University. Published by Ginn & Co., Athenaeum Press. 

There has come to our attention a new annotated edition of Burke's 
"Conciliation with America." The speech is premised by short sketches of 
the social and political condition of England throughout the eighteenth cent- 
ury ; by an outline of Burke's life ; an estimate of his powers as statesman, 
writer, and orator ; a mechanical analyzation of the speech ; a chronological 
table of events, literary and historic, from 1729-1797 ; and a fairly exhaus- 
tive bibliography. 

The object of the book is to present in compact form " all the material 
needed by teacher or student for a complete understanding of Burke's great- 
est speech." Mr. Lamont does not lose sight of his purpose, and brings to- 
gether much information at once general and specific. 

Although much interesting and valuable matter has been written on this 
subject before, yet this new edition of Mr. Lamont would certainly prove of 
no little service to both teacher and student, and it would seem especially 
applicable to the class of high school students. 


The Golden Treasury of American Verse; compiled by Frederic Law- 
rence Knowles, is but another testimony to the praiseworthy stand America 
is taking in Poesy. One must feel a certain thrill of pride in the list of 
authors, containing, among others less well known, such names as Aldrich, 
Emerson, Longfellow, Lowell, Poe, Sill, and Whittier. The volume is an 
attractive one in many ways, and a few pages of scholarly notes add much 
to its interest. ("The Golden Treasury of American Songs and Lyrics." 
Edited by Frederic Lawrence Knowles. L. C. Page & Co., Boston.) 

The Study of Mediceval History by the Library Method for High 
Schools, by M. S. Getchell, A.M., is a helpful, well-arranged, little book. 
The topics in the period covered are wisely chosen, the references to them 
are many, and are carefully selected. The chronological table of rulers, the 
references to historic literature, and the index are commendable supplemen- 
tary features. The only question that might be raised is as to the practi- 
cality and convenience of employing such a library method in a high school. 
It is, however, a volume which every teacher of mediaeval history would do 
well to possess. 


Burke: Conciliation with America. Edited with Notes and an intro- 
duction by Hammond Lamont, Associate Professor of Rhetoric in Brown 
University. Boston : Ginn & Co., 1897. 

The Golden Treasury of American Songs and Lyrics. Edited by 
Frederic Lawrence Knowles. Boston: L. C. Page & Co., 1898. 

The Study of Mediceval History by the Library Method for High 
' Schools. By M. S. Getchell, A.M. Boston : Ginn & Co., 1897. 

Practical Hints for Young Writers, Readers, and Book Buyers, by 
Frederic Lawrence Knowles. Boston: L. C. Pasre & Co., 1898. 


Jan. 6. — College re-opens, and once more the sound of the recitation 
bell is heard in the land. 

Jan. 9. — Bishop Lawrence preached in the chapel at the usual hour. 


•Jan. 10. — The Eichberg String' Quartette, assisted by Miss Bertha W. 
Swift, of Boston, gave a concert in the chapel. 

Jan. 15. — 3.20 : Miss Louise Imogen Guiney, of Auburndale, spoke 
in Lecture Room I., on " Hazlitt." 7.30: Prof. Robert W. Rogers, of 
Drew Theological Seminary, lectured on " Mound Digging in the Ea^t." 

Jan. 16. — 11.00 a. m. : Prof. Rogers conducted the usual services in 
the chapel. 7.30 : Prof. Rogers continued his interesting lectures on Assyri- 
ology ; his subject this time being " Clay Books and the Old Testament." 

Jan. 17. — The members of the Wood household repeated their opera, 
" Lady Nancy," which the}' gave at Wood, Hallowe'en night. The second 
performance of the opera was for the benefit of the Athletic Association. The 
proceeds are being expended in keeping the lake clear of snow for skating. 

The members of the College Settlement Chapter pa'id a most interesting 
and profitable visit to the various college and social settlements of South 
Boston, under the guidance of Miss V. D. Scudder. 

Jan. 22. — The regular fortnightly meeting of the Barn Swallows was 
held at the Barn. "Gibson pictures" were the entertainment, and were 
most successfully given. The following students took "parts " : — 

Of the Class of '98, Misses Baxter, Childs, Cook, Ham, Hoge, Hoyt, 
Patterson, Schoonover and Sullivan. 

Of the Class of '99, Misses Burton, Bull, Clark, Coburn. and Durgin. 

Of the Class of 1900, Misses Burnham, Capps, Harding, Meisenbach, 
and Storms. 

Of the Class of 1901, Misses Brown, Randall, and Dizerega. 

Jan. 23. — The usual eleven o'clock services were conducted by the 
Rev. G. Glen Atkins, of Greenfield, Mass. 

At seven o'clock, Miss Sybil Carter spoke most interestingly of her 
work among the Dakota Indians. 

Jan. 24. — Mr. Edwin Howland Blashfield, of New York, spoke on 
"Characteristics of the Art of the Renaissance." Mr. Blashfield's lecture 
was full of interest, which was only heightened by the stereopticon views by 
which it was followed. 

Jan. 26. — Mrs. Newman and the members of the faculty living at 
Norumbesra were at home to their friends from four until half after five. 

Jan. 27. — The usual morning services in connection with the Dav of 


Prayer for colleges, were conducted by Dr. TTin. B. Richards, of Plainfield, 
X. J. 

Jan. 28. — Examinations begin. 

Jan. 29. — One of the best concerts given this year was a piano recital 
at half past seven, by the world-famous composer and pianist. Mr. Xaver 

, 30. — Dr. Richards preached again in the chapel at the usual hour. 

Feb. 1. — The heaviest snow known in this region for ten years, fell 
during the last night of January, and gave to February a stormy welcome 
into the world. 

May the editor of iS College Xotes " beg the pardon of the Class of 1901, 
and correct the errors of last month in regard to their class elections ? The 
corrections to be made are in regard to the following names : Treasurer, 
Catharine H. Dwight ; member of the executive committee, Paula L. 
S hoellkopf: factotum, Marion B. Cnshman. 

Through the kiudness of the editorial board we reprint an article by 
Miss Kendrick, which appeared in the October number of The TVeeeeseey 
Magazine in 1896. It has been felt a _ od many that Dr. Bissell is not 
a reality to the College at large. In these days of distress in India she 
needs our special support, financial and otherwise. It is with the hope that 
AVellesley may come to know •• our own missionary" better, that this little 
biographical sketch is re-published. 

F. E. B.. • 3 


The " social settlement " idea is one to which no college girl fails to re- 
spond. TThether she has a hand in the work herself or not. she sympathizes 
with its spirit, and is glad to know what part Wellesley has in all that is being 
done in Rivington Street, or Tyler Street, or St. Mary Street. And all the 
college girls, new and old, ought to know, as they take up their coll _ 
interests in the fall, that TTeilesley. and hence every girl in Wellesley, has 
part in another work — or let us call it the same work — in another neighbor- 
hood farther away, but as close iu its claims upon our sympathy, if the fact 
of ignorance and need constitutes saeh claims : for the women and children 


of India are no whit cleaner, nor healthier, nor happier than our poor neigh- 
bors in Boston and Xew York, and have a right to ask the same kindly help 
from us. There is a woman who has gone out to live among these people. 
to heal their bodies and civilize their homes, to comfort their hearts and 
help their souls, with all the fervor of a college settlement worker, and 
at greater cost of sadness and isolation to herself. This woman stands in 
a peculiar relation to Wellesle\", for she is truly the college agent, looking 
to those who are in college now not only for the salary which they agree to 
pay, but for support and assistance in the work which she always feels to be 
their work, carried on by her. The heartiest support would surely come if 
all could come into personal touch with her. Those who were here in the 
winter of '94-'95 will remember her talk one Sunday evening in the college 
chapel just before she sailed for India, when she told what her plans for 
work were. Those who were in college during the years 1881-1886 will 
need no introduction to one whom they knew well in her student days. 
For the rest this is written, that to them also her personality may be a real 
thing and not only a name. 

Julia Bissell was born in India of missionary parents, so in going out 
as your representative she goes back to her childhood's home, and has all the 
advantages of an early knowledge of the lauguage and the people. Like all 
missionary children, she came to this country to be educated. After a year 
or two at Mt. Holyoke Seminary, not then a college, her ambition led her to 
undertake college work, and she entered TVellesley in 1881. That she was a 
"prominent girl" those who were there in her day would agree : and college 
girls know what qualities that fact implies. Strength and spirit, brains and 
good sense and good comradeship, — all these she was blessed with, and, 
better, with an earnestness and stability of character that made all honor 
her, and a warmth of affection that made her friends dearl\- love her. One of 
my earliest recollections of her is in the first days of Freshman recitations, 
when she read her Greek with a purity of accent and appreciation of meaning 
that brought an expression to the face of the professor such as any of us 
would have worked hard to win ; and one of the last recollections is of the 
Senior Tree Day, when she bestowed on an under class the few privileges 
that Seniors had then to give, in words that raised a laugh in both classes, 
but surelv left no bitterness behind. And between these two, manv memo- 


ries come of scenes in which she bore a prominent part : for she was one who 
entered into college life in every phase, and eujoyed it to the full : a mem- 
ber of the Beethoven Society (for in those days there was no College 
Glee Club), of the Crew of '85 | there was then no Tarsity Crew), of the 
Shakespeare Society (there was no other). President of the Missionary So- 
ciety, one of the first officers of the Christian Association, an enthusias 
student, a leader in all class fun. -'Bright and brave'" are the words that 
seem to describe best the impression she left on those who knew her ; and 
brightness of intellect and wit. bravery and firmness in character, are the 
very qualities most essential for the kind of work that you have sent this 
woman to India to do. 

After graduation from the five years' musical course with the degree of 
B.A., in 1886. Miss Bissell went to India as a missionary, doing the work 
of teacher and helper in her old home. Then came a return to this country 
and medical study in Philadelphia. Afterwards, with the new degree in 
medicine and an experience of a year's practice in the Philadelphia Woman's 
Hospital, where she was granted somewhat more responsibility than usually 
comes to the newly graduated assistant, Dr. Bissell sailed for India. Decem- 
ber. 1894, as the Wellesley College Missionary. 

This is the worker. Of the work it is not possible to tell much in the 
space of a short article. You will listen, to hear of it, to the letters that will 
come now aud then to the missionary meetings from Dr. Bissell herself. 
There are two people now in this country who have seen her in her home : 
Miss Abbie Child, who is lately returned from a visit to Ahmednagar, and 
Miss Nugent, who has been herself a missionary there. Possibly from one 
of them you may hear before the eud of the year something of the conditions 
of her life. 

Only this needs to he said now. The medical missionary lives the life 
of a physician in this country, giving practically all her time to her patient- : 
but with all her immense practice, which some physicians in this country 
would be inclined to envy, she does not make her living, as she could here. 
from her fees. Her personal remuneration comes in the form of a fixed 
salary paid, in the case of Dr. Bissell. by you. Yet neither are the patients 
treated freely ; this would not encourage self-respect nor respect for the 
missionaries ; but the meagernesa of the fees which can be asked of the poor 


people makes a self-supporting work impossible. A dispensary on a very 
modest scale is all that has as yet been opened, and here the people come, 
often in crowds, for treatment. The rent of the building, the cost of fur- 
nishings, the cost of drugs, etc., must be met, and should be met by the 
friends of the work in this country who have only money to give, and not 
their own lives and skill. No one knows how much of Dr. Bissell's own 
small salary goes into the running expenses of the work ; but this is known, 
that last April, one of the hot months when the missionary in India needs 
rest and a cooler climate, Dr. Bissell was not among the hills, where she 
should have been, but in Poona, a warmer city even than Ahmednagar, 
taking the place of a physician in charge of the Church of Scotland Mission 
Hospital, and earning money thus to put into her own dispensary in Ahmed- 
nagar. The reason for such a necessity may be asked in surprise. It is the 
old story of lack of contributions from the people in America, who feel that 
they are suffering from "hard times." Appropriations cut down fifty per 
cent means an actual curtailment of half the means of work, and if these were 
insufficient before, the result is appalling to the worker. Bright and brave 
she is still, willing to halve her salary and her vacation, and writing cheerful 
letters home ; but it is easy to read between the lines that in such circum- 
stances it is sometimes hard to be bright or to be brave. If eight hundred 
TVellesley friends would be willing to share the burden and the sacrifice, the 
burden would become light and sacrifices scarcely necessary. Let these 
Wellesley friends make it literally true, as Dr. Bissell always insists it is 
true, that the work is theirs though clone through her, by following it with 
intelligent sympathy, and by standing ready to meet new needs with money 
gifts or other gifts. There is already a worker there of whom the College 
has a right to be proud. Then there might be a large work of which the 
College would also have a right to be proud, a center, in a needy neighbor- 
hood, of healing and of light. 

Eliza Hall Kendkick. 


On Saturday evening, January 15, the Society of Zeta Alpha held a 
regular meeting. The following programme was given : — 



Critique : Letters of Elizabeth Barrett 

Browning . . . . . Alexina Booth. 

Music ....... Frances Hoyt. 

The Modern Social Novel . . . Edith Tewksbury. 

At a regular meeting of the Agora, held January 18, the following- 
programme was given : — 
Informal speeches — 
I. The Feasibility of the Annexation of 
Hawaii ...... 

II. The Present Situation in China . 
III. The Last Settlement of the Sealing 

Question . . 
The regular programme was as follows : — 
Paper : Methods of Appointment of School 
Boards in Cities .... 

Debate : Should the School Board be Ap- 
pointed by the Mayor? 
Affirmative ...... Helen Damon. 

Negative ...... Clara Brown. 

Mary Cross. 
Ruth Goodwin. 

Mary Capen. 

Elizabeth Seelman. 

On Wednesday evening, January 19, Miss Lucia Ames spoke to the 
Society and a few guests on "Beautifying Cities." 

On Saturday evening, January 22, Miss Vida Scudder spoke to the 
Phi Sigma Fraternity on Sienkiewicz. Miss Frances Mason, '99, was in- 
itiated into the Fraternity. There were present at the meeting Mary E. 
Chase, '95, Abby Paige, '96, Edith May, Mary S. Goldthwait, Clara H. 
Shaw, Mary W. Dewson, '97, and Mabel R. Eddy, Sp. 


Mary E. Whipple, '79, is taking a course in history at Radcliffe Col- 

Mrs. Clara Ames Hay ward, '83, whose home in Germany has so many 
times been opened to Wellesley travelers, is back in Rochester this winter. 


Sophouisba P. Breckinridge, '88, is studying political science at Chi- 
cago University. 

Maud A. Dodge, '88, is spending the winter in Germany. 

Catherine F. Pedrick, '89, is special teacher of gymnastics in the pub- 
lic schools of Cambridge, Mass. Miss Pedrick has entire charge of this 
work in all the grammar and primary schools, and is introducing many new 

Sarah M. Bock, '90, is studying for the ministry at Tufts College Divin- 
ity School. 

Helen MacG. Clark is teaching in a private family in Peace Dale, P. I. 

Carol Dresser, '90, and Sara Elizabeth Stewart, '91, paid a flying visit 
to the college on Saturday, January 29. 

Mary E. Hazeltine, '91, is librarian in the public library in Jamestown, 
N. Y. 

The engagement of ErmTy I. Meader, '91, to Mr. Frank I. Easton, of 
Providence, is announced. 

Martha F. Goddard, '92, is studying this year in Zurich. 

We clip the following from the New York Tribune: "Miss Abigail 
Hill Laughlin Wins. — The record made by the young women of Cornell is 
again enriched by the capture of the '94 memorial prize by Miss Abigail 
Hill Laughlin, of Portland, Me. Miss Laughlin, who is a student in the 
law department, is a graduate of Wellesley College, where she was one of 
the founders of Agora, the well-known debating and literar} r club. She has 
shown great ability in extempore speaking, and is the first woman to speak 
on the '94 stage. Miss Laughlin is the second woman to win a debate prize 
at Cornell." 

Mary Millard, '94, is teaching a class in English Literature in the 
Normal School in Albany, N. Y. 

The engagement of Emilie Wheaton Porter, '96, to Mr. John Hurd, 
of Swampscott, is announced. 

Bertha E. Hyatt, '96, is studying at the State Library School, Albany, 
N. Y. 


The engagement of Amy C. Carter, formerly '98, to Mr. H. F. 
Hartwell, of Northampton, Mass., is announced. 

Mrs. Eva Loomis Howe, Sp. '75—76, the first student to come to 
Wellesley, is a prominent member of the Rochester Wellesley Club. 

We clip the following from a New York paper : Miss Alice M. 
Guernsey, Sp. '78-79, "who is State Secretary of the Loyal Temperance 
Legion, is editing and publishing a little monthly paper for her assistants 
in the children's work. It is packed full of useful hints. Miss Guernsey 
is one of the assistant editors of The Silver Cross, the organ of the King's 

The engagement of Belle Emerson, '82—83, is announced. 

The engagement of Elizabeth Cheney, Sp. '94-97, to Mr. Albert 
Carter, of Newtonville, Mass., is announced. 

The Washington Wellesley Association held its annual meeting at the 
home of the president, Mrs. Laura Paul Diller, 1454 Staughton Street, 
N. W., Wednesday afternoon, December 15. The officers chosen for '98 
are : president, Mrs. Frances Davis Gould, '81-83 ; vice president, Miss 
Emma A. Teller, '89 ; secretary, Miss Isabella Campbell, '94 ; treasurer, 
Miss Nancy J. McKnight, '87 ; chairman of business committee, Miss Delia 
Sheldon Jackson, '84— '85. Arrangements were made for the annual 
reunion to be held at Miss Emma A. Teller's, January 3d. 

Mrs. Melvil Dewey was at home to the Eastern New York Wellesley 
Club and the Albany Branch of the Association of Collegiate Alumna? on 
Saturday afternoon, December 18. A few invitations were issued to friends 
of the members, and the number who attended passed a very enjoyable 

The Chicago Wellesley Club gave a reception in honor of Mrs. Irvine 
Thursday, Dec. 30, 1897, at the home of Mrs. Louise Palmer Vincent, '86, 
5737 Lexington Avenue. Mrs. Irvine spoke briefly on the " Wellesley of 
To-day." Between three and four hundred people were present. 

We reprint a clipping from a Chicago paper: "President Julia Irvine 
of Wellesley College was the guest of the Wellesley Club yesterday after- 


noon at the home of Mr. and Mrs. George E. Vincent, 5737 Lexington 
Avenue. Several hundred people, many of whom were alumnae, were 
present. Mrs. Irvine spoke briefly on ' New Wellesley.' She said in con- 
clusion, ' Our women's colleges have been raising their standards of late 
years until they are on a footing with men's colleges.'" 

The Chicago Wellesley Club held its January meeting at the Le Moyne 
Building, 40 E. Randolph Street, Chicago, on Saturday, January 22, at 
2.30 p. m. Mrs. Kenneth Smoot, chairman of the Consumers' League 
Committee of the Association of Collegiate Alumna?, spoke of the organiza- 
tion and aims of the League, and Mrs. John Sherwood of the work that is 
and should be done for working girls in the down-town districts of our city. 
The programme of the club for the remaining months of '97— '98 is as follows : 
Fourth Saturday in February, 2.30 p. m., Le Moyne Building, 40 E. Ran- 
dolph Street, lecture, "The Eifect of Mind on Disease," by Dr. Belfield ; 
fourth Saturday in March (place to be announced later), entertainment for 
benefit of Wellesley projects, Miss Evangeline Sherwood, chairman ; fourth 
Saturday in April (place to be announced later), lunch and annual meeting. 

The annual meeting and supper of the Worcester Wellesley Club took 
place Oct. 29, 1897, at the Y. W. C. A. rooms, and formed a pleasant re- 
union to the thirty-three or more members who were present. The attend- 
ance was not so large as in other years, as it appears that a number of the 
members are out of town. The most important business was the election of 
officers, which resulted in the choice of Mrs. Adeliza Brainerd Chaffee for 
President, Mrs. E. P. Sumner, Vice President, and Mrs. H. W. Cobb, 
Secretary and Treasurer. The club hopes to present a reading desk to the 
new chapel at Wellesley College. An informal reception followed, at which 
the members entertained their men friends. A pretty feature of the evening 
was the singing of Wellesley College songs by a little glee club composed of 
eight members, under the leadership of Mrs. May Sleeper-Ruggles, who also 
sang several solos that were greatly enjoyed. 

We copy from a Worcester paper the following account of the holiday 
festivities of the Worcester Wellesley Club : " The annual holiday tea of the 
Wellesley College Club was given Jan. 3, 1898, by Mrs. E. D. Thayer, Jr., 
and the event was a delightful one to the thirty or more college girls, past, 


present, and to come, who attended it. Beside the members of the club, the 
three students who are preparing at the high schools to enter Wellesley, and 
the nine Worcester girls who are undergraduates at the College were invited, 
but the attendance was small owing to the fact that many are spending the holi- 
days away from home, and that most of those who teach have returned to their 
schools. Mrs. Thayer received with Mrs. E. P. Sumner, the Vice President, 
Mrs. H. W. Cobb, the Secretary, Mrs. John E. Tuttle, and Mrs. Schofield. 
The entertainment of the afternoon was a talk by Mrs. Tuttle, and music, 
consisting of a piano number by Miss Helen Lincoln, and two songs, Griegs' 
'Autumnal Storms,' and the 'Iris,' aria from Haendel's forgotten opera of 
' Semele,' by Mrs. May Sleeper-Ruggles. Mrs. Tuttle, who is a graduate of 
the class of '80, gave in a delightful manner reminiscences of the founder of 
the College, Henry F. Durant, who was the personal friend and adviser of 
the students in those early years of the College, entered into every depart- 
ment of their life and studies with unfailing enthusiasm and sympathy, and 
is becominsr but a name to the fast increasina; ranks of Graduates who have 
benefitted by his generosity in the years since his death. She reminded her 
hearers that the tuition fees never began to cover the expenses of the educa- 
tion which the College gives ; in other words, every one receives much more 
than she pays for, and this is the gift of the founder. She thought that in 
return every student on leaving Wellesley should feel it a duty to perpetuate 
and spread a feeling of personal recognition of the man whose talents had 
made this possible, and of gratitude to him. Upon concluding,- she was 
tendered a unanimous vote of thanks, and the college yell was given. 
Ices, cakes, chocolate, and sweets were then served in the dining room 
by Mrs. Walter Richmond, Mrs. Henry L. Parker, Jr., and Mrs. Harry J. 
Gross, assisted by Miss Stanwood, Miss Lillian Crawford, Miss Harriet G. 
Pierce, Miss Grace Baker, Miss Alice Denny, and Miss Eleanor Whiting." 

The Smith Club of Worcester entertained the officers of the Wellesley 
Club on January 14, and the Worcester Mt. Holyoke Association invited 
the entire club to meet Mrs. Henrotin, President G. F. W. C, on January 


The New York Wellesley Club gave its fifth annual luncheon Saturday 
afternoon, January 15, in the Hall of Fair Women, at the Manhattan Hotel. 


The tables were beautifully decorated with pink carnations, and yards of 
smilax winding gracefully over the cloths, while each place was finished off 
with a dainty menu tied with the Wellesley blue. The soft light of the 
green-shaded candelabra gave a warm welcome to about one hundred of 
Welleslcy's daughters, who, in spite of the most inclement weather, had 
gathered for this meeting, the most enjoyable of the year. 

The guests of honor were Mrs. Julia J. Irvine, president of Wellesley 
College; Mr. and Mrs. Charles Bulkley Hubbell, Mr. and Mrs. G. Hilton 
Scribner, of Yonkers ; Charles G. D. Roberts, of Canada; Mrs. Alice Vant 
George, secretary of the Brookline Education Society, and Dr. and Mrs. 
Henry Lubeck. 

After the delicious luncheon the newly organized Alumna? Glee Club, a 
most attractive feature of the occasion, stirred all loyal hearts by singing the 
dearly loved songs, " 'Neath the Oaks of our Old Wellesley," and " Lake 
Waban." These were followed by cordial words of welcome from the club 
president, Mrs. Henrietta Wells Livermore, of Yonkers ; who in closing in- 
troduced the much honored president of Wellesley. The noise of the clap- 
ping was only drowned by the enthusiastic Wellesley cheer which broke 
from all, as Mrs. Irvine arose from her seat, for the New York Wellesley 
Club finds no guest more welcome than the respected president of her Alma 
Mater, and none whom she so delights to honor. 

Mrs. Irvine's subject was " Wellesley College." In the course of her 
remarks she intimated that no one need fear for the financial future of the 

Mr. Hubbell spoke on the "Education in New York." " This is a serious 
question," he said, •' more especially since it has lately been thrown into an 
atmosphere of hostility. I fear for its future. But it all depends on the 
people, and I am glad to have an opportunity of speaking to you on the sub- 
ject, for it is women who have been the first to conceive and work for im- 
provement and advance in other cities, and it was women who helped us to 
pass the great school bill two years ago." 

Mr. Scribner, in his toast on the " Education of Travel," gave a very 
suggestive talk on the necessity of careful and intelligent preparation for 
profitable foreign tours, illustrating it with most humorous tales of rich, 
ignorant unfortunates whom he had chanced to meet on his extensive travels. 


Mr. Roberts, the well-known Canadian poet, varied the programme by- 
reading several of his charming poems on nature, before Mrs. Vant George 
gave the final address on the " Sphere of the College Club." The meeting 
closed by all joining in singing the " Alma Mater," led by the Glee Club. 

The New York Wellesley Club is perhaps the most flourishing of all the 
branches scattered over the United States. It has a membership of over two 
hundred living in and near the great city, who enthusiastically support the 
monthly meetings. Often a special musical or literary programme is planned 
for these occasions, but the club most eagerly greets a representative from 
the College, who comes brimful and overflowing with information to appease 
the never entirely satiated thirst of an isolated alumna. 

The new Buffalo Wellesley Club held its second meeting on January 7, 
1898, in the drawing room of the Millard Fillmore house in Buffalo. Presi- 
dent Irvine was the guest of the club. 

The Rochester Wellesley Club entertained President Irvine at its first 
meeting of the new year, on January 8, 1898. 


Denison House, Boston. 

Mr. Robertson, of England, gave a lecture on William Morris before the 
Social Science Club, December 7. Professor Coman and a number of col- 
lege girls were present. 

Miss Mary Hill, '93, met with some of the younger boys during De- 
cember, to train them in Christmas carols. Miss Hill and her friend, Miss 
Nichols, furnished music for one of the recent Thursday evening parties. 

The public school teachers were entertained at an afternoon tea, Decem- 
ber 13, as a preliminary to forming a teachers' club to meet fortnightly at 
Denison House. Dr. Webster, Miss Scudder, Miss Kendall, and others 
from Wellesley were present, and about eighty teachers representing the 
Boston schools. At a meeting on January 16 the club was formally orga- 
nized, and is to be known as the Denison Teachers' Club. Any teacher 
from the Boston schools, or from the schools of the suburbs, is eligible to 
membership. The club will be mainly social in character. 


Miss Florence Converse came into residence December 13, and will 
probably remain three months. 

The tenement house investigation, which is to be done in connection 
with the Twentieth Century Club, has been undertaken by several members 
of the household. Miss Auten, of the Class of '98, has also made a begin- 
ning in the district assigned her. 

At the meeting of the Federal Labor Union, January 11, Professor 
Coman read a paper on the "Coal Strike" of last summer. Mr. Lloyd gave 
a vivid description of the terrible condition of the miners in West Virginia, 
where he was sent during the strike. An animated discussion on govern- 
ment ownership as a solution of the difficulties of the situation followed Pro- 
fessor Coman's paper. At the business meeting of the Union Miss Marshall 
was appointed secretary. 

On January 13, the Wellesley Glee Club, assisted by Misses Mills 
and Goodwin, of Boston, entertained the Thursday evening guests. 

Miss Sarah A. Drew, of Cambridge, gave her first talk on Art, January 
14, to a large class, composed chiefly of members of the Women Clerks' 
Benefit Association and of the Union for Industrial Progress. 

The Entertainment Committee of the Teachers' Club met on the after- 
noon of the 17th, and made arrangements for the meetings of the next three 

At the residents' meeting, January 18, encouraging reports were heard 
from the various clubs and classes of the House. A new class in English is 
starting with nine members ; new members are reported in the Friday even- 
ing English Class and in the French and Cooking Classes. 

The Radcliffe Mandolin Club, assisted by Mrs. Haskell, furnished music 
for the neighborhood reception January 20. 

The Women's Club heard a talk on Plumbing, by Mrs. Tobey, at their 
meeting, Friday afternoon, January 21. This club is preparing for a sale 
of articles to be held in March for the benefit of their outing fund. Contri- 
butions of home-made candies, plain and fancy articles, will be gratefully 
received by Mrs. Putnam, who will gladly give information and suggestions 
to an} r one interested in the sale. 

The Busy Bee Club gave the fairy play " Prince Riquet and the Princess 
Radiant," at the Children's Hospital, January 22. 


Mr. Bennett Springer, of Roxbury, entertained eighty of the boys 
belonging to our clubs with his splendid sleight-of-hand tricks, Saturday 
evening, January 22, in the Green Room. 

Miss Dudley and several residents heard Colonel Waring's account of 
his experience in the New York Street Cleaning Department, at the 
Twentieth Century Club, January 25. 

Miss Scudder and Miss Dudley are spending a few days at Jaffrey, 
N. H. 

Miss Marshall leaves the settlement to take a position as teacher of 
history in the Brookline High School, recently held by Miss Tomlinson. 

Applications for the following pamphlets which have been published, 
and are now being distributed, will be gladly received and promptly attended 
to at Denison House: "The Eighth Annual Report of the College Settle- 
ments Association," "Bibliography of College, Social, and University Settle- 
ments," and the Denison House Directory of Clubs and Classes. 

The Saturday afternoon chorus, consisting of twenty-five girls, is prac- 
ticing for a fan drill and concert to be given in March. 

There will be six conferences of club leaders, under the auspices of 
Denison House and Lincoln House, at Denison House, on Tuesday afternoons 
at 3.30. 

Programme : — 

Feb. 8. — Miss Laura Fisher. Nature Work. 

Feb. 15.— Miss F. E. Smith. History through Picture Study. 

Feb. 22.— Miss F. E. Smith. Pageant and Festival. 

March 2.-^Mr. G. E. Johnson. Games. 

March 8.— Mrs. F. C. Fisk. Industrial Training. 

March 15.— Mrs. W. T. Rutan. The Art of Story Telling. 

After each talk an informal discussion will take place. Price of tickets 
for the course, $1. 

Miss Clara Keene, who has been in charge of the Busy Bee Club, is 
forced to give up her work in connection with it for a couple of months, at 
least, as she is contemplating a trip South with her mother. 

Miss Bartlett, formerly resident at Denison House, is at Hull House, 
Chicago, this winter. 


Bivington Street Settlement. 

On Sunday afternoon, January 23, a conference was held at 95 Riving- 
ton Street, New York, to discuss the question of the unemployed. As a 
result of this conference a committee, composed of representatives of labor 
unions, free labor bureaus, and the college settlement, has been formed to 
help secure work for the unemployed. The committee consists of Henry 
White, of United Garment Workers, chairman ; Thomas W. Hotchkiss, 
secretary ; John J. Bealin, superintendent of State Labor Bureau ; and Miss 
Kingsbury, headworker of College Settlement. 

Charles Sprague Smith, managing director and one of the trustees of 
the People's Institute, gave a talk at the settlement on Sunday evening, 
January 23, his subject being " The People's Institute." 

Miss Frauoes Woodford, Wellesley, '91, is spending several months at 
95 Rivington Street. 

Dr. Kelley gave a lecture, with views, on " City History of New York," 
Sunday evening, January 30. 

Miss Walker, Bryn Mawr, '93, former president, now secretary of the 
College Settlements Association, is spending a month at Rivington Street. 

Philadeljihia Settlement. 
A tea will be given in her honor on Thursday, February 3. 

Miss Helen Dawes Brown will give a course of six lectures on " Modern 
Fiction," for the benefit of the school-teachers in the tenth ward, and others 
interested, on Tuesdays, in February and March, at the settlement. 

A course of lessons in " Account Keeping for Charities" will begin on 
January 8, at 700 Lombard Street, under the direction of Mr. J. Q. Adams, 
Professor of Political Science in the University of Pennsylvania. 

Miss Susan G. Walker, Secretary of the College Settlements Associa- 
tion, spent some time at Bryn Mawr during December. She paid a visit to 
the settlement while there. 

The Hugo Literary Club gave a very enjoyable entertainment in the 
College Settlement Hall on Friday evening, December 31. 

Mrs. Agnes Goodrich Vaille, of 1015 Spruce Street, is to begin even- 
ins; work with a class in voice training at the settlement directly after the 
1st of January. 


The attendance at the Sunday evening lectures grows steadily larger. 
One of the most stirring and earnest of these talks was that given by Mr. 
Finley Acker on the " Responsibilities of American Citizenship." 

All students and alumnse are referred to the report of the C. S. A. just 
issued, and to the third edition of the bibliography which has been compiled 
for the association by Mr. John Gairt, of Chicago Commons. This shows 
the rapid growth of the settlement movement. Within the past two years 
the number of settlements in America has doubled, being now eighty in 
number. The report shows growth and new interest in the three settlements 
under the control of the Association. Wellesley leads the colleges in the 
amount contributed for 1896-97. The college subscription is $315, the 
alumnae, $873.25; total, $1,188.25. In addition sub-chapters have been 
formed at Dana Hall, Walnut Hill, and Mrs. Cady's, New Haven, making 
an additional contribution of $30. The Smith College Glee Club con- 
tributed $150 to the association, 1896-97. 

There is an interesting article on Kingsley Hall, Tokyo, Japan, in the 
December number of The Commons. 

Kingsley House, Pittsburgh, has a valuable report on Dietaries. 


Shatswell-Cushing. — In Quechee, Vt., Jan. 10, 1898, Miss Mary 
Porter Cushing, '92, to Dr. H. K. Shatswell. At home after March 1, 
1898, at 49 Temple Street, West Roxbury, Mass. 

Adams-Weaver. — In Newton Centre, Mass., Oct. 20, 1897, Miss 
Ethel Weaver, '95, to Mr. Frank Harding Adams, of Dedham, Mass. 

Parker-Carpenter. — In Norwich, Conn., Dec. 8, 1897, Miss Fannie 
Arnold Carpenter, formerly '97, to Mr. Gerard Lester Parker. At home in 
Norwich Town, Conn. 

Teets-Leonard. — In Omaha, Neb., Feb. 2, 1898, Miss Grace Leon- 
ard, formerly '99, to Mr. Frank Teets. 



Dec. 6, 1897, in Three Oaks, Mich., a son, Julian Francis, to Mrs. 
Opal Watson Gordon,' 95. 


Dec. 21, 1897, in Worcester, Mass., Mr. Angus Henderson, father of 
Annie May Henderson, '94. 

Oct. 29, 1897, in Stoneham, Mass., Francis Edwin, only child of Dr. 
F. E. and Etta Parker Park, '90. 



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Pfjottf apiiic Supplies, Cameras, 

Etc., of Every Description. 

i2S-page Catalogue on application. 

Our Stock 

Intercollegiate Bureau and Registry. 



If it's new w 
A. Stc 

;s, Relia 
\ Econc 

Gifts, all prio 
: Presents, $ 
% Gifts, $2 
rd Prizes, 5( 

e have it 



\ to $tO. 

to $100. 

) cents to $3. 


Cotrell & Leonard, 

472 to 478 Broadway, 
Albany, N. Y. 


Caps and Gowns 


>well & 

American Colleges. 

24 Winter Street - Boston, Mass. 

Illustrated Catalogue and Particulars on Application. 


Every Requisite 
Dainty Lunch 




Fancy Biscuits. 



Pickles, etc. 

for a 


Cobb, Bates & Yerxa Co's, 

680 Washington Street, 

Miss M. F. Fisk, 

No. 44 Teniple Place, Boston. 

Wishes to announce to the Young Ladies that she has received 
her Fall and Winter Stock of 

Velveteen and 

French Flannel Waists. 

They are in Plain, Striped, and Plaid Effects, and are in beautiful shades of Red, Green, 
Purple, Brown, and Black. The style is very attractive, and the fit perfect, as they have 
been made on Miss Fisk's special chart. Miss Fisk would be greatly pleased to have you 
examine them, sending you all a cordial invitation to do so. 

Something New in Stationery, 

Prescriptions Accurately Compounded. 

WELLESLEY FLAG. Call and see it. 

Also a line of Baker's and Huyler's C^^-^-ct Qt (^ -rt^^-^-^ ^i ., 1 t^ -i .• ,w ,1 i 

Confections. oTORY Ol L. UTTER, Shattuck Building', Wellesley. 




Urse Uriely of FANCY BOXES & BASKETS. 

suitable for PRESENTS. 





Wellesley Preparatory, 


For circular address the Principals, 



To cut down your school expenses. Look ! ! * 

Students' Paper, 25 cts. per lb. 
Students' Covers, 20 and 25 cts. each. 
Students' ( "T. &M.Co." ) Pencils, 35 cts. doz. 
Students' "Sterling" Steel Pens, 60 cts. gross. 
Engraved Plate and 100 Calling Cards, $1.50. 

Engraved Die, ioo Sheets Paper and \ 

ioo Envelopes, Finest Quality ] 

All Students' Supplies equally low. Always use our A=A 
Waterman's " Standard " Fountain Pen. 



Stationers Engravers F*rinters, 

12 milk Street, Boston. 

"Wright & Ditson, 

The Leading Athletic Outfitters of New England. 


Golf, Basket Ball, Fencing-, and 
the Gymnasium. 

Special Attention given to Orders by Mail. 

Wright & Ditson. 

344 Washington Street, Boston, mass. 
WE make a specialty of 

Winter Weight 

Walking Boots... 

Box Calf, Willow Calf. 

Rubber-sole Gymnasium Shoes 

A Full Line of Rubbers. 


No. 3 Clark's Block, 
Natick, Mass. 


The Dana Hall School, 



Pupils are prepared for regular or for special 
courses at Wellesley College. 

Price for Board and Tuition, $500 for the 

school year; Tuition for day pupils, $125. 

For further information address the Principals : 

Julia A. Eastman. 

Kent Place School 

Sarah P. Eastman. 

for Girls, 

Summit, New Jersey. 


Hamilton W. Mabie, 


Application may be made to the 

Mrs. Sarah Woodman Paul. 

Junius W. Hill, 

(Leipsic, 1S60-1S63.) 

For the past thirteen years Professor of 
Music in Wellesley College, and Director 
of the Wellesley College School of Music, 





At his Studio in Boston, 

154 Tremont Street. 

Specialties. — The Art of Piano-playing, Organ, 
Harmony, and Voice Culture. Correspondence so- 
licited. Circulars sent on application to any address. 



Union Teacips' Agencies of America. 

Rev. L. D. BASS, D.D., Manager. 

Pittsburg, Pa. ; Toronto, Can.; New Orleans, La. ; New York, 

N. Y.; Washington, D. C. ; San Francisco, Cal.; Chicago, 

III.; St. Louis, Mo., and Denver, ^Colorado. 

There are thousands of positions to be filled. We had over 
S,ooo vacancies during the past season. Unqualified facilities 
for placing teachers in every part of the United States and 
Canada, as over 95 per cent of those who registered before Au- 
gust secured positions. One fee registers in nine offices. Ad* 
dress all applications to SALTSBURY, PA. 

Best Work. 

Lowest Prices. 

Frank Wood, 

352 Washington Street, Boston. 

Telephone, Boston 273. 

Full Count. Prompt Delivery. 

Insignia, Badges, Society Stationery. 

The Bailey, Banks & Biddle Company has as- 
sembled exceptional facilities for the prompt 
execution of orders for Insignia, Badges, and 
Society Stationery. This company owns proba- 
bly the most complete library in the United 
States on the subject of Heraldry. With such 
wealth of authority constantly at hand, accuracy 
is absolutely insured. 

Patrons may feel equal confidence in the cor- 
rectness and taste of Society Stationery pre- 
pared by this house. 

Hie Bailey, Banks & Biddle Company, 

Jewelers, Silversmiths, Stationers, 





Via Fall River and Newport. 

The Famous Steamboats of this Line, the 


are substantially alike in design, appliances, finish, and fur- 
nishings, and the perfection of their service in every depart- 
ment has no superior in transportation construction. 

Tbe Route traversed by tbe Fall River Line is unsur- 
passed in attractive marine features and surroundings. 

Special Vestibuled Express Train leaves Boston 
from Park Square Station. 


Q. P. A., N. Y., N. H.,& H. R. R. (0. C. System), G. P. A., Fall River Line, 
Boston. New York. 

L. H. PALMER, Boston Pass'r Agt., 
No. 3 Old State House, Boston. 


<?arl J. JlorQer, 

11 Winter Street, Boston, Mass. 

Elevator to Studio. 

(?lass pf?oto<§raptyer 

Jo U/ellesley <?olle<?e, '98. 

Special Rates to Friends of the College. 
Mention this Advertisement. 


Troy, New York. 

preparatory, /leademie and Graduate 


Departments of Music and Art. 

Certificate admits to Wellesley, Smith, and Vassar Colleges 
85th year opens September 21, 189S. 



Costume Parlors, 


(Near Old Public Library.) 
Telephone, Tremont 1314. BOSTON, MASS. 


For Masquerades, Old Folks' Concerts, 
Private Theatricals, Tableaux, etc. 

Perfect Comfort 

For women and positive style. That's what we studied 
for. Nothing" to pinch or hurt. 

The H. H. "TuttleShoe" 

is made on men's lasts. Has that graceful outside 
swing that gives thelittletoe breathing room. Double- 
soled calf for those who want heavy shoes. Lighter 
grades for others. $4 to $8 is the price. Discount to 
Students and Faculty. 

H. H. TUTTLE & CO., 

Washington St., cor. Winter Street. 



New York Infirmary for Women and Children. 

""THE Thirty-second Annual Session opens October 
1,1897. Four years, Graded Course. Instruc- 
tion by Lectures, Clinics, Recitations and practical 
work, under supervision in Laboratories, and Dis- 
pensary of College, and in New York Infirmary. 
Clinics and operations in most of the City Hospitals 
and Dispensaries open to Women Students. For 
Catalogues, etc., address 

321 East 15th St., New York. 

H. H. CARTER & CO., 

Stationers *? Engravers 


20 per cent Discount 


Made by Wellesley College Students. 

5 Somerset St. (near Beacon), 


19 Bromfield Street - Boston, Mass. 

Artists' Materials. 



Christmas, Easter, Valentine 
and Birthday Gifts, etc 

Usual Discount to Students. 

Joel Goldthwait & Company, 

Have just opened and are now ready to show 
a large and very fine line of 

Scotch • Axminsters, • English • Wiltons • and • Brussels, 

With a full stock of 

Domestic Wiltons, Brussels, Axminsters, 
Velvets, Tapestries and Ingrains. 

The Styles and Colorings adapted to the present styles of Furnishings. 

Near Cora n 111 

163 to 169 Washington Street, Boston, Mass* 

Women's and Misses' 

Blanket Wraps 

For the Nursery. 
For the Sick Room. 
For the Bath. 

For Steamer Traveling. 
For the Railway Carriage. 
For Yachting. 
For Men, Women, Children, and the 
Baby, $2.75 to $35, with Hood and 
Girdle complete. 

Blanket Wraps 

. $5.00 to 


Satin or Silk Stocks 


Flannel Wraps 

10.00 *' 


Hunting Stocks . . 


Cheviot Wraps 

. 6.50 " 


Riding Cravats . . 


Bath Wraps . 

. 8.50 " 


String Ties . . . 

.50 to 


Bath Slippers 

1. 00 " 


Stick Pins . . . 

•35 " 


Golf Waists . 

. 5.00 " 


Sleeve Links . . 

.50 " 


Flannel Waists 

. . s- 00 " 


Sleeve Buttons . 

.50 " 


Cheviot Waists 

. . 5.00 

Collar Buttons 

.10 " 


Sweaters . . 

. . 5.00 " 


Umbrellas . . . 

1.50 " 


Pajamas . . 

• ■ 4 5° " 


Abdominal Bands 

150 " 


Union Undergarme 

nts 2.50 " 


Woolen Knee Caps 


Golf Capes . . 

. . 15.00 

Fleecy Lined Bed H 

ose 2.25 

Mackintoshes to order 10.00" 


Couch Covers 

6.00 " 


Cravenettes to order . 10.50 " 


Traveling Rugs . 

7.00 " 


Walking Gloves 

. . 2.00 

Plush Rugs . . 

. 25.00 

Driving Gloves . 

■ • 2-5° 

Sleeping Robes . 

• 3-5o " 


Golf Gloves . . 

. . 2.00 

Colored Dolls 


Bicycle Gloves . 

. . 1.50 
r Bicy< 




:les, $100.00 to 

Noyes Bros., 

Washington and Summer Streets, Boston, Mass., U. S. A. 

M. R. Warren Co. 


Engravers and 



Pens, Ink, Pencils, 

Pocketbooks, Card Cases, Playing Cards, 

Fountain Pens, Stylographic Pens, 


Students' Notebooks, 

Address, Engagement, Shopping and Visiting Books 

Paine's Duplicate Whist, 


Everything in Writing Materials. 


No. 336 Washington Street, Boston. 


no. l mm & »., 

Ladies' and Children's 


Our Display of 

Coats, Suits, Wraps, Furs, Waists, 
Rainproof Garments, Tea Gowns, 
and Silk Petticoats is the handsom- 
est and most complete we have ever 
shown, including our own direct im- 
portation of 

Paris and Berlin Novelties. 

Correct Styles. Moderate Prices. 

Nos. 531 and 533 Washihgtoh Street, 


Telephone 2254. 

Frank Wood, Printer, Boston